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AN 



American Four-in-Hand 



In Britain 



by 



ANDREW CARNEGIE 




NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1883 



^ 



V r A 



Copyright, 1883, nv 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. 



PRESS OF J. J. LITTLE & CO., 
NOS. 10 TO 20 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK. 



I DEDICATE THESE TAGES 

TO 

My Favorite Heroine, 



PREFACE. 



The publication of this book renders neces- 
sary a few words of explanation. It was orig- 
inally printed for private circulation among a 
few dear friends — those who were not as well 
as those who were of the coaching party — to 
be treasured as a souvenir of happy days. The 
house which has undertaken the responsibility of 
giving it a wider circulation believed that its 
publication might give pleasure to some zuho 
would not otherwise see it. It is not difficult 
to persuade one that his work which has met 
with the approval of his immediate circle may 
be worthy of a larger audience; and the author 
was the more easily induced to consent to its re- 
print because, the first edition being exhaicsted, 
he was 710 lotiger able to fill many requests for 
copies. 

The original intent of the book must be the 
excuse for the highly personal nature of the 



viii Preface. 

narrative, which could scarcely be changed with- 
out an entire remodelling, a task for which the 
zuriter had neither time nor inclination ; so, with 
the exception of a few suppressions and some 
additions which see/ned necessary under its new 
conditions, its character has not been materially 
altered. Trusting that his readers may derive 
from a perusal of its pages a tithe of the pleas- 
ure which the Gay Charioteers experienced in 
performing the journey, and wishing that all 
may live to sec their " ships come home " and 
then enjoy a similar exctcrsiou for themselves, 
he subscribes himself, 

Very Sincerely, 

The Author. 

New York, May I, 1S83. 



AN 



American Four-in-Hand 



In Britain 



AN AMERICAN FOUR-IN-HAND 
IN BRITAIN. 

LONG enough ago to permit us to sing, " For we are 
"boys, merry, merry boys, Merry, merry boys together," 
and the world lay all before us where to choose, Dod, 
Vandy, Harry, and I walked through Southern Eng- 
land with knapsacks on our backs. What pranks we 
played ! Those were the happy days when we heard 
the chimes at midnight and laughed Sir Prudence out 
of countenance. " Dost thou think, because thou art 
virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ? " Nay, 
verily, Sir Gray Beard, and ginger shall be hot i' the 
mouth too ! Then indeed 

" The sounding cataract 
Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, 
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, 
Their colors and their forms, were then to me 
An appetite ; a feeling and a love 
That had no need of a remoter charm, 
By thought supplied, or any interest 
Unborrowed from the eye." 

It was during this pedestrian excursion that I an- 
nounced that some day, when my " ships came home," 
i 



2 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

I should drive a party of my dearest friends from 
Brighton to Inverness. Black's "Adventures of a 
Phaeton " came not long after this to prove that another 
Scot had divined how idyllic the journey could be 
made. It was something of an air-castle — of a dream — 
those far-off days, but see how it has come to pass ! 

The world, in my opinion, is all wrong on the sub- 
ject of air-castles. People are forever complaining 
that their chateaux en Espagne are never realized. But 
the trouble is with them — they fail to recognize them 
when they come. "To-day," says Carlyle, "is a king 
in disguise," and most people are in possession of their 
air-castles, but lack the trick to see't. 

Look around you ! see Vandy, for instance. When 
we were thus doing Merrie England on foot, he with a 
very modest letter of credit stowed away in a belt 
round his sacred person — for Vandy it was who always 
carried the bag (and a faithful treasurer and a careful 
one too — good boy, Vandy!); he was a poor student 
then, and you should have heard him philosophize and 
lord it over us two, who had been somewhat fortunate 
in rolling mills, and were devoted to business. " Great 
Csesar ! boys, if I ever get fifteen hundred dollars a 
year income!" (This was the fortune I was vaguely 
figured up to be worth under ordinary conditions.) 
" Great Csesar ! boys " — and here the fist would come 
down on the hard deal table, spilling a few drops of 
beer — " fifteen hundred dollars a year ! Catch me 



Air-Castles. 3 

working any more like a slave, as you and Harry do ! " 
Well, well, Vandy's air-castle was fifteen hundred dol- 
lars a year ; yet see him now when thousands roll in 
upon him every month. Hard at it still — and see the 
goddess laughing in her sleeve at the good joke on 
Vandy. He has his air-castle, but doesn't recognize 
the structure. 

There is Miss Fashion. How fascinating she was 
when she descanted on her air-castle — then a pretty 
cottage with white and red roses clustering beside the 
door and twining over it in a true-lover's knot, symbol- 
izing the lover's ideal of mutual help and dependence — 
the white upon the red. No large establishment for 
her, nor many servants ! One horse (I admit it was 
always to be a big one), and an elegant little vehicle ; 
plenty of garden and enough of pin money. On this 
point there was never to be the slightest doubt, 
so that she could really get the best magazines and 
one new book every month — any one she chose. A 
young hard-working husband, without too much in- 
come, so that she might experience the pleasure of 
planning to make their little go far. Behold her now ! 
her husband a millionaire, a brown-stone front, half a 
dozen horses, a country place, and a box at the opera ! 
But, bless your heart ! she is as unconscious of the 
arrival of her castle as she is that years creep upon her 
apace. 

The Goddess Fortune, my friends, rarely fails to 



4 Four -in-Hand in B?'itain. 

give to mortals all they pray for and more ; but how she 
must stand amazed at the blindness of her idolators, 
who continue to offer up their prayers at her shrine, 
wholly unconscious that their first requests have been 
granted ! It takes Fortune a little time to prepare the 
gifts for so many supplicants — the toys each one spe- 
cially wants; and lo and behold! before they can be 
delivered (though she works with speed betimes) the 
unreasonable mortals have lost conceit of their prizes, 
and their coming is a mockery; they are crying for 
something else. If the Fates be malignant, as old re- 
ligions teach, how they must enjoy the folly of man! 

Imagine a good spirit taking Fortune to task for 
the misery and discontent of mortals, as she gazes with 
piteous eyes upon our disappointments, our troubles, 
and, saddest of all, our regrets, charging her with pro- 
ducing such unhappiness. " Why have you done this? " 
would be the inquiry. Listen to the sardonic chuckle 
of the Fate : " Hush ! I've only given them what they 
asked (chuckle — chuckle — chuckle) ! Not my fault ! 
See that unhappy wretch, sleeplessly and feverishly 
tossing on his pillow, and in his waking hours absorb- 
ing all his lofty faculties in gambling at the Stock Ex- 
change — wife, children, home, music, art, culture, all 
forgotten. He was once a bright, promising, ingenuous 
youth. He was born among trees and green fields, 
spent the morn of life in the country, sensitive and re- 
sponsive to all nature's whisperings ; lay in cool, leafy 



Air-Castles. 5 

shades, wandered in forest glades, and paddled in the 
' complaining brooks which make the meadow green.' 
Nay, not many years ago he returned at intervals to 
these scenes, and found their charm had still power 
over him — felt the truth of the poet's words, that 

" ' To him who in the love of nature holds 

Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
A various language ; for his gayer hours 
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 
Into his darker musings, with a mild 
And healing sympathy, that steals away 
Their sharpness, ere he is aware.' 

" He asked for enough to live honorably upon 
among his fellows," continues the Fate, " and to keep 
his parents comfortable in their old age — a matter of a 
few hundreds a year — and I gave him this and thou- 
sands more. Ha, ha, ha ! Silence ! Look at him ; he 
doesn't see the joke. Oh yes, you may try to tell it 
to him, if you like. He has no time to listen, nor ears 
to hear, nor eyes to see ; no, nor soul to understand 
your language. He's 'short' on New Jersey Central 
or 'long' on Reading, and, bless you! he must strain 
every fibre if he would save himself from ruin. 

"He could commune with you in your youth, you 
say ; he had your language then. No doubt ! no doubt ! 
so did he then know his Latin and whisper his prayers 
at his mother's knee. The Latin has gone ; his praying 



6 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

continues — nay has increased, for his fears and selfish 
wants have multiplied since he was an innocent, igno- 
rant child, and he has much more to ask from God for 
his own ends, now that he is a wise man and is sup- 
posed to know much (chuckle — chuckle — chuckle). 

" There is another mortal," we hear the Fate saying 
to the Good Fairy. " Look at her, decked out in all 
the vagaries of changeable Fashion ; note her flxed-up 
look, her conventional air, her nervous, unmeaning, sim- 
pering smile — the same to-day, yesterday, and forever — 
something to all men, much to none. See her at home 
in her chamber! Why mopes she, looking so haggard, 
with features expressionless and inane ? What worm 
gnaws at her heart and makes her life so petty? She, 
too, came into the world a bright and happy thing, 
and grew up fond of music and of birds, and with a 
passion for flowers and all of Nature's sweets ; so care- 
ful, too, of mother and of father, the very embodiment 
of love to all around her. You should have seen her 
in her teens, a glorious ray from heaven — ' making 
a sunshine in a shady place ' — so natural, so hearty, 
with a carolling laugh like the falling of waters. In 
her most secret prayers she asked only for a kind 
lover with a fair competence, that they might live mod- 
estly, without ostentation. She was a good girl and I 
granted her wish and more," says Fate. " Her air-castle 
was small, but I sent her a magnificent one. She is 
courted, flattered, has every gift in my power to be- 



Air-Castles. 7 

stow ; yet she pines in the midst of them. The fruits 
of her rare gardens have no flavor for her — Dead Sea 
fruits indeed, which fall to ashes on her lips. She has 
entered for the race of Fashion, and her soul is ab- 
sorbed in its jealousies and disappointments. You may- 
speak to her as of old ; tell her there is something noble 
in that domain of human life where duties grow — 
something not only beyond but different from Fashion, 
higher than dress or show. She understands you not. 

" Hand her a bunch of violets. Does she learn 
their lesson with their odor (which her dog scents as 
well as she) ? Comes there to her the inner meaning, 
the scent of the new-mown hay that speaks of past 
hours of purity, of the fresh breeze that fanned her 
cheek in childhood's halcyon days, the love of all 
things of the green earth and the sense of the goodness 
of God which his flowers ever hold within their petals 
for those who know their language ? ' They will deco- 
rate me to-night for the ball ! ' That is the be-all and 
the end-all of her ladyship's love for flowers. 

" Show her a picture with more of heaven than 
earth in it, and glimpses of the light that never shone 
on sea or shore. If the artist be in fashion she will 
call it ' pretty,' when it is grand. Give her music. Is 
it the opera ? Oh yes, she will attend. It is the fash- 
ion. But place within her reach the soul-moving orato- 
rio (with more religion in it than in twenty sermons) or 
the suggestive symphony. No, a previous engagement 



8 FoiLr-i7i-Hand iji Britain. 

prevents. Why, just think of it — one cant talk there ! 
Yet this woman could once play with feeling and sing 
with expression, delighting her young companions. Of 
her one could truly say, 

" 'Oh! to see or hear her singing ! scarce I know which is divinest — 
For her looks sing too — she modulates her gestures on the tune; 
And her mouth stirs with the song, like song ; and when the 

notes are finest, 
'Tis the eyes that shoot out vocal light, and seem to swell them 

on.' 

And now she has fallen to this ! " 

" Has she children ? " inquires the Good Spirit. 

" No," says Fate, " we are not altogether relentless. 
How could we give such a woman children and look 
you in the face? It is sometimes thought necessary 
even to go as far as this, but in such cases we commend 
the poor infants to the special care of the great Father, 
for mother they have none. But look ! there is a man 
now who did so pray for a son and heir that we gave 
him one, and yonder goes the result. God in heaven ! 
why are men so rash in their blindness as to pray for 
anything ! Surely ' Thy will be done ' were best. 

I am as bad as Sterne in his "Sentimental Jour- 
ney," and will never get on at this rate. I started to 
argue that the Fates were too kind instead of not kind 
enough ; at least, my air-castles have ever been mere 
toys compared with the realities, for never did I dream, 
in my wildest days, that the intended drive through 



Embarkation. 9 

Britain would assume the princely proportions of a 
four-in-hand, crowded with a dozen of my dearest 
friends. A modest phaeton or wagonette with a pair 
of horses was the extent of my dream, but the Fairy 
sent me four, you see, and two friends for every one I 
had pleased myself with imagining as sure to take the 
journey with me. 

But now to a sober beginning of the story of the 
coach. It was in the leafy month of June — the very 
first day thereof, however — in the year of our Lord 
1881, that the good ship Bothnia (Cunard Line, of 
course), Captain McMicken (a true Scot and bold Brit- 
ish sailor), steamed from the future Metropolis of the 
World for the shores of Merrie England. She had 
many passengers, but among them were eleven who 
outranked all others, if their respective opinions of each 
other were to be accepted as the true standard of judg- 
ment. I had received for many months before the 
sweetest pleasure imaginable in startling first one and 
then another with requests to report at headquarters, 
Windsor Hotel, New York, May 31st, prepared to em- 
bark. It was on St. Valentine's Day that the Prima 
Donna received a missive which caused her young 
heart to flutter. What a pretty reply came ! Here is 
a short extract : 

" Three months to dream of it ; three months to live in it ; and 
my whole lifetime afterward to think it over. I am the happiest 
girl alive, only sometimes I can't believe it's all going to happen." 



io Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

To Davenport, Iowa, went another invitation. In 
due time came a return missive from the proud City of 
the River : 

" Will I go to Paradise for three months on a coach ? Agent 
of Providence, I will ! " 

Isn't it glorious to make one's friends so happy? 



Harbor of New York, June i, 18S1. ) 
On board Steamer Bothnia. \ 

Call the roll. 

Queen Dowager, Head of the Clan (no Salic Law in 
our family); Miss J. J. (Prima Donna); Miss A. F. 
(Stewardess); Mr. and Mrs. McC. (Dainty Davie); Mr. 
and Mrs. K. (Paisley Troubadours) ; Mr. B. F. V. 
(Vandy); Mr. H. P., Jr. (Our Pard) ; Mr. G. F. McC. 
(General Manager) ; ten in all, making, together with 
the scribe, the All-coaching Eleven. 

Ting-a-ling-a-ling ! The tears are shed, the kisses 
ta'en. The helpless hulk breathes the breath of life. 
The pulsations of its mighty heart are felt, the last 
rope that binds us to land cast off ; and now see the hun- 
dreds of handkerchiefs waving from the pier fading and 
fading away. But note among the wavers one slight 
graceful figure ; Miss C. of our party, present in spirit 
if bodily absent on duty, much to the regret of us all. 
The wavings from deck to shore tell our friends 

" how slow our souls sailed on, 
How fast our ship." 



On the Bothnia. 1 1 

The Bothnia turned her face to the east, and out 
upon old ocean's gray and melancholy waste sailed the 
Gay Charioteers. As we steamed down the bay three 
steamers crowded with the most enterprising of Eu- 
rope's people passed us, emigrants coming to find in 
the bounteous bosom of the Great Republic the bless- 
ings of equality, the just reward of honest labor. Ah, 
favored land ! the best of the Old World seek your 
shores to swell to still grander proportions your assured 
greatness. That all come only for the material benefits 
you confer, I do not believe. Crowning these material 
considerations, I insist that the more intelligent of 
these people feel the spirit of true manhood stirring 
within them, and glory in the thought that they are to 
become part of a powerful people, of a government 
founded upon the born equality of man, free from mili- 
tary despotism and class distinctions. There is a trace 
of the serf in the man who lives contentedly in a land 
with ranks above him. One hundred and seventeen 
thousand came last month, and the cry is still they 
come! O ye self-constituted rulers of men in Europe, 
know you not that the knell of dynasties and of rank is 
sounding? Are you so deaf that you do not hear the 
thunders, so blind that you do not see the lightnings 
which now and then give warning of the storm that is 
to precede the reign of the people ? 

There is everything in the way one takes things. 
" Whatever is, is right," is a good maxim for travellers 



12 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

to adopt, but the Charioteers improved on that. The 
first resolution they passed was, " Whatever is, is love- 
ly ; all that does happen and all that doesn't shall be 
altogether lovely." We shall quarrel with nothing, 
admire everything and everybody. A surly beggar 
shall afford us sport, if any one can be surly under our 
smiles ; and stale bread and poor fare shall only serve 
to remind us that we have banqueted at the Windsor. 
Even no dinner at all shall pass for a good joke. Rain 
shall be hailed as good for the growing corn ; a cold 
day pass as invigorating, a warm one welcomed as sug- 
gestive of summer at home, and even a Scotch mist 
serve to remind us of the mysterious ways of Provi- 
dence. In this mood the start was made. Could any 
one suggest a better for our purpose ? 

Now comes a splendid place to skip — the ocean 
voyage. Everybody writes that up upon the first trip, 
and every family knows all about it from the long de- 
scriptive letters of the absent one doing Europe. 

When one has crossed the Atlantic twenty odd 
times there seems just about as much sense in boring 
one's readers with an account of the trip as if the 
journey were by rail from New York to Chicago. We 
had a fine, smooth run, and though some of us were a 
trifle distrait, most of us were supremely happy. A 
sea voyage compared with land travel is a good deal 
like matrimony compared with single blessedness, I 
take it : either decidedly better or decidedly worse. 



The Atlantic. 13 

To him who finds himself comfortable at sea, the ocean 
is the grandest of treats. He never fails to feel himself 
a boy again while on the waves. There is an exulta- 
tion about it. " He walks the monarch of the peopled 
deck," glories in the storm, rises with and revels in it. 
Heroic song comes to him. The ship becomes a live 
thing, and if the monster rears and plunges it is akin 
to bounding on his thoroughbred who knows its rider. 
Many men feel thus, and I am happily of them, but 
the ladies who are at their best at sea are few. 

The travellers, however, bore the journey well, 
though one or two proved indifferent sailors. One 
morning I had to make several calls upon members be- 
low and administer my favorite remedy; but pale and 
dejected as the patients were, not one failed to smile a 
ghastly smile, and repeat after a fashion the cabalistic 
words — " Altogether lovely." 

He who has never ridden out a hurricane on the 
Atlantic is to be pitied. It seems almost ridiculous to 
talk of storms when on such a monster as the Servia. 
Neptune now may " his dread trident shake " and only 
give us pleasure, for in these days we laugh at his pre- 
tensions. Even he is fast going the way of all kings, 
his wildest roar being about on a par with the last Bull 
of the Pope, to which we listen with wonder but with- 
out fear. 

In no branch of human progress has greater advance 
been made within the past twenty years than in ocean 



14 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

navigation by steam ; not so much in the matter of 
speed as in cost of transport. The Persia, once the 
best ship of the Cunard Line, required an expenditure 
of thirty-five dollars as against her successors' one dol- 
lar. The Servia will carry thirty-five tons across the 
ocean for what one ton cost in the Persia. A revolu- 
tion indeed ! and one which brings the products of 
American soil close to the British shores. Quite re- 
cently flour has been carried from Chicago to Liverpool 
for forty-eight cents (2 s.) per barrel. The farmer of 
Illinois is as near the principal markets of Britain as 
the farmer in England who grows his crops one hun- 
dred miles from his market and transports by rail ; and, 
in return for this, the pig-iron manufacturer of Britain 
is as near the New York market as is his competitor on 
the Hudson. 

Some of the good people of Britain who are interest- 
ed in land believe that the competition of America has 
reached its height. Deluded souls, it has only begun! 

One cannot be a day at sea without meeting the 
American who regrets that the Stars and Stripes have 
been commercially driven from the ocean. This always 
reminds me of a fable of the lion and the turtle. The 
lion was proudly walking along the shore, the real king 
of his domain, the land. The turtle mocked him, say- 
ing, Oh, that's nothing, any one can walk on land. 
Let's see you try it in the water. The lion tried. Re- 
sult : the turtle fed upon him for many days. America 



The American Navy. 15 

can only render herself ridiculous by entering the 
water. That is England's domain. 

" Her home is on the mountain wave, 
Her march is o'er the deep." 

We are talking just now about building some ships 
for a proposed American Navy, which is equivalent to 
saying that we are going to furnish ships to the enemy, 
if we are ever foolish enough to have one — for it takes 
two fools to wage war. Unless America resolves to 
change her whole policy as a republic, teaching mankind 
the victories of peace, far more renowned than those of 
war, and goes back to the ideas of monarchical govern- 
ments, she should build no ships of war ; but if she will 
leave her unique position among the nations, and step 
down to the level of quarrellers, let her beat the navies 
of Britain and France, for the ships of a weak naval 
power are the certain prey of the stronger in time of 
war. In peace they are useless. 

In thinking of the real glories of America, my mind 
goes first to this — that she has no army worthy of the 
name, and scarcely a war ship of whose complete in- 
efficiency in case of active service we are not permitted 
to indulge the most sanguine anticipations. 

What has America to do following in the wake of 
brutal, pugilistic nations still under the influence of 
feudal institutions, who exhaust their revenues training 
men how best to butcher their fellows, and in building 



1 6 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

up huge ships for purposes of destruction ! No, no, let 
monarchies play this game as long as the people toler- 
ate it, but for the Republic " all her paths are peace," 
or the bright hopes which the masses of Europe repose 
in her are destined to a sad eclipse. 

Travellers know the character and abilities of the 
men in charge of a Cunard ship, but have they ever 
considered for what pittances such men are obtained ? 
Captain, $3,250 per annum; first officer, $1,000; second, 
third, and fourth officers, $600. For what sum, think 
you, can be had a man capable of controlling the pon- 
derous machinery of the Servia ? Chief engineeer, 
$1,250. You have seen the firemen at work down be- 
low, perhaps. Do you know any work so hard as this ? 
Price $30 per month. The first cost of a steel ship — 
and it is scarcely worth while in these days to think of 
any other kind — is about one-half on the Clyde what it 
is on the Delaware. Steel can be made, and is made, in 
Britain for about one half its cost here. Not in our day 
will it be wise for America to leave the land. It is a 
very fair division, as matters stand — the land for Amer- 
ica, the sea for England. 



Friday, June 10, 1SS1. 

Land ahoy ! There it was, the long dark low-lying 

cloud, which was no cloud, but the outline of one of the 

most unfortunate of lands — unhappy Ireland, cursed by 

the well-meaning attempt of England to grow English- 



Ireland. 1 7 

men there. England's experience north of the Tweed 
should have taught her better. 

Conquerors cannot rule as conquerors a people who 
have parliamentary institutions and publish newspa- 
pers ; and neither of these can ever be taken away 
from Ireland. They always come to stay. You may 
succeed in keeping down slaves for a while, but then 
you must govern them as slaves, and the Irish people 
have advanced beyond this. Just in proportion as 
they do grow less like serfs and more like men, the 
impossibility of England's governing Ireland must grow 
likewise. I hear some Americans reproaching the Irish 
people for rioting and fighting so much ; the real troub- 
le is they don't fight half enough. Take my own 
heroic Scotland ; let even Mr. Gladstone, one of our- 
selves and our best beloved, send an Englishman as 
Lord Advocate to Scotland, and let him dare pass a 
measure for Scotland in Parliament against the wishes 
of the Scotch members, and all the uprisings in Ireland 
would seem like farces to the thorough work Scotland 
would make of English interference. She would not 
stand it a minute. Neither should Ireland. If she 
has the elements of a great people within her borders, 
she will never submit. In less than a generation Ire- 
land can be made as loyal a member of the British 
confederacy as Scotland is ; and all that is necessary to 
produce this is that she should be dealt with as Eng- 
land has to deal with Scotland. Let the Emerald Isle, 



1 8 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

then, fight against the attempted dominion of England, 
as Scotland fought against it, and may the result be 
the same — that Ireland shall govern herself, as Scot- 
land does, though her own representatives duly elected 
by the people. " To this complexion must it come at 
last," and the sooner the better for all parties con- 
cerned. 

We reached Liverpool Saturday morning. How- 
pleasant it is to step on shore in a strange land and be 
greeted by kind friends on the quay ! Their welcome 
to England counted for so much. 

Mr. and Mrs. P. had been fellow passengers. A 
special car was waiting to take them to London, but 
they decided not to go, and Mr. P. very kindly placed it 
at the disposal of Mr. J. and family (who were, fortu- 
nately for us, also fellow-passengers) and our party, so 
that we began our travelling upon the other side under 
unexpectedly favorable conditions. 

To such of the party as were getting their first 
glimpse of the beautiful isle, the journey to London 
seemed an awakening from happy dreams. They had 
dreamed that England looked thus and thus, and now 
their dreams had come true. The scenery of the Mid- 
land route is very fine, much more attractive than that 
of the other line. 

The party spent from Saturday until Thursday at 
the Westminster Hotel, in monster London, every one 
being free to do what most interested him or her. 



House of Commons. 19 

Groups of three or four were formed for this purpose 
by the law of natural selection, but the roll was called 
for breakfasts and dinners, so that we all met daily and 
were fully advised of each other's movements. 

The House of Commons claimed the first place with 
our party, all being anxious to see the Mother of Par- 
liaments. It is not so easy a matter to do this as to 
see our Congress in session ; but thanks to our friend 
Mr. R. C. and to others, we were fortunate in being 
able to do so frequently. Our ladies had the pleasure 
of being taken into the Ladies' Gallery by one of the 
rising statesmen of England, Sir Charles Dilke, a Cabi- 
net Minister, and one who has had the boldness, and as 
I think the rare sagacity, to say that he prefers the re- 
publican to the monarchical system of government. The 
world is to hear of Sir Charles Dilke, if he live and 
health be granted him, and above all, if he remain 
steadfast to his honest opinions. So many public men 
in England " stoop to conquer," forgetting that what- 
ever else they may conquer thereafter they never can 
conquer that stoop; that " drags down their life " ! 

We really heard John Bright speak — the one of all 
men living whom our party wished most to see and to 
hear. I had not forgotten hearing him speak in Dun- 
fermline, when I was seven years of age, and well do I 
remember that when I got home I told mother he 
made one mistake ; for when speaking of Mr. Smith 
(the Liberal candidate) he called him a men, instead of 



20 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

a maan. When introduced to Mr. Bright I was de- 
lighted to find that he had not forgotten Dunfermline, 
nor the acquaintances he had made there. 

A grand character, that of the sturdy Quaker ; once 
the best hated man in Britain, but one to whom both 
continents are now glad to confess their gratitude. He 
has been wiser than his generation, but has lived to see 
it grow up to him. Certainly no American can look 
down from the gallery upon that white head with- 
out beseeching heaven to shower its choicest bless- 
ings upon it. He spoke calmly upon the Permissive 
Liquor Bill, and gave the ministerial statement in re- 
gard to it. All he said was good common sense ; we 
could do something by regulating the traffic and con- 
fining it to reasonable hours, but after all the great cure 
must come from the better education of the masses, 
who must be brought to feel that it is unworthy of 
their manhood to brutalize themselves with liquor. 
England has set herself at last to the most important of 
all work — the thorough education of her people ; and 
we may confidently expect to see a great improvement 
in their habits in the next generation. My plan for 
mastering the monster evil of intemperance is that our 
temperance societies, instead of pledging men never to 
taste alcoholic beverages, should be really temperance 
agencies and require their members to use them only at 
meals — never to drink wines or spirits without eating. 
The man who takes one glass of wine, or beer, or spirits 



Temperance. 2 1 

at dinner is clearly none the worse for it. I judge that 
if the medical fraternity were polled, a large majority 
would say he was the better for it, at least after a cer- 
tain age. Why can't we recognize the fact that all 
races indulge in stimulants and will continue to do so ? 
It is the regulation, not the eradication, of this appetite 
that is practical. The coming man is to consider it low 
to walk up to a bar and gulp down liquor. The race 
will come to this platform generations before they will 
accept that of Sir Wilfrid Lawson and his total absti- 
nence ideas. 

This was written before the Church of England 
movement in this direction was known to me. Much 
good must come of its efforts ; but I confess I should 
like to see that church show that it is in earnest by re- 
moving the deep reproach cast upon it by recent state- 
ments, which pass uncontradicted. Listen to this 
startling announcement : This holy Church of England, 
mark you, is the largest owner of gin palaces in the 
world. The head of the church, the Archbishop of Can- 
terbury, in passing from his palace at Lambeth to his 
abbey at Westminster, sees more than one hundred (I 
believe I understate the case) gin palaces which his 
church owns and has rented for such purposes ; nay, it 
is shown that the church has always raised the rents of 
these houses, with which licenses go, as the sales of 
liquor have increased ; so that her interest lies in ex- 
tending the use of liquors as a beverage secretly upon 



22 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

one hand, while she poses before the world as laboring 
to restrict the curse with the other. Her right hand 
knows only too well what her left hand doeth. It does 
seem that the mere announcement of such a fact would 
work its own remedy — perhaps it will when its holy 
fathers are done with the vastly more important busi- 
ness of determining the size and shape of vestures, or 
the number of candles, or the posture of the priest 
most pleasing to God — but before the church can fig- 
ure as much of an agency in the cause of temperance 
reform, it will have to wash its hands of its hundred gin 
palaces. 

The article in Harper s Magazine upon Bedford 
Square, giving glowing accounts of this Arcadian col- 
ony, with its aesthetic homes, its Tabard Inn, and its 
club, made us all desire to visit it. We did so one 
afternoon, and received a very cordial welcome from 
Mrs. C. in the absence of her husband. She kindly 
showed us the grounds and explained all to us. Truth 
compels me to say we were sadly disappointed, but for 
this we had probably only ourselves to blame. It is so 
natural to imagine that exquisite wood-cuts and pretty 
illustrations set forth grander things than exist. 
The houses were much inferior to our preconceived 
ideas, and many had soft woods painted, and most of 
the cheap shams of ordinary structures. The absence 
of grand trees, shady dells, and ornamental grounds, 
and the exceedingly cheap and cheap-looking houses 



Stafford House. 23 

made all seem like a new settlement in the Far West 
rather than the latest development of culture. From 
this criticism Mr. C.'s own pretty little home is wholly 
exempt, and no doubt there are many other homes 
there equally admirable. I speak only of the general 
impression made upon our party by a very hasty visit. 
Bedford Park is no doubt an excellent idea, and des- 
tined to do much good, only it is different from what 
we had expected. 

Extremes meet. It was from houses such as I have 
spoken of that we went direct to Stafford House, to 
meet the Marquis of Stafford by appointment, and to 
be shown over that palace by him. What a change ! 
If the former were not up to our expectations, this 
exceeded them. I don't suppose any one ever has 
expected to see such a staircase as enchants him 
upon entering Stafford House. This is the most mag- 
nificent residence any of us has ever seen. I will not 
trust myself to speak of its beauties, nor of the treas- 
ures it contains. One begins to understand to what 
the Marquis of Stafford is born. The Sutherland fam- 
ily have a million two hundred thousand acres of land 
in Britain ; no other family in the world compares with 
them as landowners. It is positively startling to think 
of it. Almost the entire County of Sutherland is theirs. 
Stafford House is their London residence. They 
have Trentham Hall and Lillieshall in Mid-England, 
and glorious Dunrobin Castle in Scotland. 



24 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

The Marquis sits in the House of Commons as 
member for Sutherland County ; and what do you 
think ! he is a painstaking director of the London and 
North-Western Railway, and I am informed pays strict 
attention to its affairs. The Duke of Devonshire is 
Chairman of the Barrow Steel Company. Lord Gran- 
ville has iron works, and Earl Dudley is one of the 
principal iron manufacturers of England. It is all 
right, you see, my friends, to be a steel-rail manufac- 
turer or an iron-master. How fortunate ! But the 
line must be drawn somewhere, and we draw it at 
trade. The A. T. Stewarts and the Morrisons have no 
standing in society in England. They are in vulgar 
trade. Now if they brewed beer, for instance, they 
would be somebodies, and might confidently look for- 
ward to a baronetcy at least ; for a great deal of beer 
a peerage is not beyond reach. 

We heard a performance of the " Messiah " in 
Albert Hall, which the Prima Donna agreed with me 
was better in two important particulars than any simi- 
lar performance we had heard in America. First in 
vigor of attack by the chorus ; this was superb ; from the 
first instant the full volume and quality of sound were 
perfect. The other point was that all-important one of 
enunciation. We have no chorus in New York which 
rivals what we heard, though we have an orchestra 
which is equal to any. The words were, of course, 
familiar, and we could scarcely judge whether we were 



Parliament. 25 

correct in our impression, but we believed that even 
had they been strange to us we could nevertheless have 
understood every word. Since my return to New York 
I have heard this oratorio given by the Oratorio So- 
ciety, and am delighted to note that Dr. Damrosch has 
greatly improved his chorus in this respect ; but the Eng- 
lish do pronounce perfectly in singing. This opinion 
was confirmed by the music subsequently heard in 
various places throughout our travels. In public as 
well as in private singing the purity of enunciation 
struck us as remarkable. If I ever set up for a music 
teacher I shall bequeath to my favorite pupil as the 
secret of success but one word, " enunciation." 

Some of us went almost every day to Westminster, 
but dancing attendance upon Parliament is much like 
doing so upon Congress. The interesting debates are 
few and far between. The daily routine is uninterest- 
ing, and one sees how rapidly all houses of legislation 
are losing their hold upon public attention. A debate 
upon the propriety of allowing Manchester to dispose 
of her sewage to please herself, or of permitting Dun- 
fermline to bring in a supply of water, seems such a 
waste of time. The Imperial Parliament of Great 
Britain is much in want of something to do when it 
condescends to occupy its time with trifling questions 
which the community interested can best settle; but 
even in matters of national importance debates are 
no longer what they were. The questions have already 



26 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

been threshed out in the Reviews — those coining forums 
of discussion — and all that can be said already said by 
writers upon both sides of the question who know its 
bearings much better than the leaders of party. When 
the Fortnightly or the Nineteenth Century gets through 
with a subject the Prime Minister only rises to sum up 
the result at which the Morleys and Rogerses, the 
Spencers and Huxleys, the Giffens and Howards have 
previously arrived. 

The English are prone to contrast the men of 
America and England who are in political life, and the 
balance is no doubt greatly in their favor. But the 
reason lies upon the surface: America has solved the 
fundamental questions of government, and no changes 
are desired of sufficient moment to engage the minds of 
her ablest men. During the civil war, when new issues 
arose and had to be met, the men who stepped forward 
to guide the nation were of an entirely different class 
from those prominent in politics either before or since. 
Contrast the men of Buchanan's administration with 
those the war called to the front — Lincoln, Seward, Stan- 
ton, Sumner, Edmunds, Morton, or the generals of that 
time, with Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Hancock. All of 
these men I have known well, except one or two of the 
least prominent. I have met some of the best known 
politicians in England. Compared morally or intellect- 
ually, I do not think there is much, if any, difference 
between them ; while for original creative power I 



Parliament. 2 7 

believe the Americans superior. That a band of men 
so remarkable as to cause surprise to other nations will 
promptly arise whenever there is real work to do, no 
one who knows the American people can doubt ; but no 
man of real ability is going to spend his energies 
endeavoring to control appointments to the New York 
Custom House, any more than he will continue very 
long to waste his time discussing Manchester sewage. 
Much as my English friends dislike to believe it, I tell 
them that when there is really no great work to be 
done, when the conflict between feudal and democratic 
ideas ends, as it is fast coming to an end, and there 
is no vestige of privilege left from throne to knight- 
hood, only vain, weak men will seek election to Par- 
liament, and such will stand ready to do the bidding of 
the constituencies as our agents in Congress do. But 
this need not alarm our English friends ; there will 
then be much less bribery before election and much 
less succumbing to social court influences after it. 
The brains of a country will be found where the real 
work is to do. The House of Lords registers the 
decrees of the House of Commons. The House of 
Commons is soon to register the decrees of the month- 
lies. Both these things may be pronounced good. In 
the next generation the debates of Parliament will 
affect the political currents of the age as little as the 
fulminations of the pulpit affect religious thought at 
present ; and then a man who feels he has real power 



28 Four-in-Ha7id in Britain. 

within him will think of entering Parliament about 
as soon as he would think of entering the House of 
Lords or the American Congress. 

" The parliament of man, the federation of the world," 

comes on apace ; but its form is to be largely imper- 
sonal. The press is the universal parliament. The 
leaders in that forum make your " statesman " dance as 
they pipe. 

The same law is robbing the pulpit of real power. 
Who cares what the Reverend Mr. Froth preaches now- 
adays, when he ventures beyond the homilies ? Three 
pages by Professor Robertson Smith in the " Encyclo- 
paedia Britannica " destroy more theology in an hour 
than all the preachers in the land can build up in a life- 
time. If any man wants bona fide substantial power 
and influence in this world, he must handle the pen — 
that's flat. Truly, it is a nobler weapon than the sword, 
and a much nobler one than the tongue, both of which 
have nearly had their day. 

We had a happy luncheon with our good friends the 
C.'s, one of our London days; and some of our party 
who had heard that there was not a great variety of 
edibles in England saw reason to revise their ideas. 
Another day we had a notable procession for miles 
through London streets and suburbs to the residence 
of our friend, Mr. B. Five hansoms in line driven pell- 
mell reminded me of our Tokio experiences with gin- 
rikshaws, two Bettos tandem in each. 



The Stars mid Stripes. 29 

It was a pretty, graceful courtesy, my friend, to dis- 
play from the upper window the " Stars and Stripes," 
in honor of the arrival of your American guests, and 
prettier still to have across your hall as a portiere, 
under which all must bow as they entered, that flag 
which tells of a government founded upon the born 
equality of man. Thanks ! Such things touch the 
heart as well as the patriotic chord which vibrates in 
the breast of every one so fortunate as to claim that 
glorious standard as the emblem of the land he fondly 
calls his own. Colonel Robert Ingersoll, that wonderful 
orator, says that when abroad, after a long interval, he 
saw in one of the seaports the Stars and Stripes flutter- 
ing in the breeze, " he felt the air had blossomed into 
joy." It was he too who told the South long ago that 
" there wasn't air enough upon the American continent 
to float two flags." Right there, Colonel ! 

Do you know why the American worships the starry 
banner with a more intense passion than even the Brit- 
on does his flag? I will tell you. It is because it is not 
the flag of a government which discriminates between 
her children, decreeing privilege to one and denying it 
to another, but the flag of the people which gives the 
same rights to all. The British flag was born too soon 
to be close to the masses. It came before their time, 
when they had little or no power. They were not con- 
sulted about it. Some conclave made it, as a pope is 
made, and handed it down to the nation. But the 



30 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

American flag bears in every fibre the warrant, " We the 
People in Congress assembled." It is their own child, 
and how supremely it is beloved ! 

It is a significant fact that in no riot or local out- 
break have soldiers of the United States, bearing the 
national flag, ever been assaulted. Militia troops have 
sometimes been stoned, but United States troops never. 
During the worst riot ever known in America, that in 
our own good city of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, twenty- 
eight United States soldiers, all there were in the bar- 
racks, marched through the thousands of excited men 
unmolested. I really believe that had any man in the 
crowd dared to touch that flag, General Dix's famous 
order would have been promptly enforced by his com- 
panions. Major-General Hancock recently told me that 
he had never known United States soldiers to be at- 
tacked by citizens. He was in command of the troops 
during the riots in the coal regions in Pennsylvania some 
years ago, and whenever a body of his regulars ap- 
peared they were respected and peace reigned. 

General Dix's order was, " If any man attempts to 
pull down the flag shoot him on the spot." So say we 
all of us. And it will be the same in Britain some day, 
ay and in Ireland too, when an end has been made of 
privilege and there is not a government and a people, 
but only a government of the people, for the people, 
and by the people. The day is not so far off either as 
some of you think, mark me. 



Brighton. 3 1 

But good-bye, London, and all the thoughts which 
crowd upon one when in your mighty whirl. You mon- 
ster London, we are all glad to escape you ! But ere 
we "gang awa'" shall we not note our visit to one we 
are proud to call our friend, and of whom Scotland is 
proud, Dr. Samuel Smiles, a writer of books indeed — 
books which influence his own generation much, and 
the younger generation more. Burns's wish was that he, 

" For poor auld Scotland's sake, 
Some useful plan or book could make, 
Or sing a sang at least." 

Well, the Doctor has made several books that are books, 
and I have heard him sing a song, too, for the days of 
Auld Lang Syne. May he live long, and long may his 
devoted wife be spared to watch over him ! 



Thursday Morning, June 16, 1881. 

We are off for Brighton. Mr. and Miss B. ac- 
company us. Mr. and Mrs. K. have run up to 
Paisley with the children, and Mr. and Mrs. G. have 
joined us in their place. The coach, horses, and ser- 
vants went down during the night. 

We had time to visit the unequalled aquarium and 
to do the parade before dinner. Miss F. and I stole 
off to make a much more interesting visit ; we called 
upon William Black, whose acquaintance I had been 



32 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 

fortunate enough to make in Rome, and whom I had 
told that I should some day imitate his " Adventures 
of a Phaeton." A week before we sailed from New 
York, I had dined with President Garfield at Secretary 
Blaine's in Washington. After dinner, conversation 
turned upon my proposed journey, and the President 
became much interested. " It is the 'Adventures of a 
Phaeton ' on a grand scale," he remarked. " By the 
way, has Black ever written any other story quite so 
good as that ? I do not think he has." In this there 
was a general concurrence. He then said : " But I am 
provoked with Black just now. A man who writes to 
entertain has no right to end a story as miserably as he 
has done that of ' MacLeod of Dare.' Fiction should 
give us the bright side of existence. Real life lias trag- 
edies enough of its own" 

A few weeks more and we were to have in his own 
case the most terrible proof of the words he had 
spoken so solemnly. I can never forget the sad, care- 
worn expression of his face as he uttered them. 

" But come it soon or come it fast, 
It is but death that comes at last." 

One might almost be willing to die if, as in Garfield's 
case, there should flash from his grave, at the touch 
of a mutual sorrow, to both divisions of the great 
English-speaking race, the knowledge that they are 
brothers. This discovery will bear good fruit in time. 



William Black. 33 

" Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it." 

Garfield's life was not in vain. It tells its own 
story — this poor boy toiling upward to the proudest 
position on earth, the elected of fifty millions of free- 
men ; a position compared with which that of king or 
kaiser is as nothing. Let other nations ask themselves 
where are our Lincolns and Garfields ? Ah, they grow 
not except where all men are born equal ! The cold 
shade of aristocracy nips them in the bud. 

Mr. Black came to see us off, but arrived at our 
starting-place a few minutes too late. A thousand 
pities ! Had we only known that he intended to do us 
this honor, until high noon, ay, and till dewy eve, 
would we have waited. Just think of our start being 
graced by the author of " The Adventures of a Phae- 
ton," and we privileged to give him three rousing 
cheers as our horn sounded ! Though grieved to miss 
him, it was a consolation to know that he had come, 
and we felt that his spirit was with us and dwelt with 
us during the entire journey. Many a time the in- 
cidents of his charming story came back to us, but I 
am sorry to record, as a faithful chronicler, that we 
young people missed one of its most absorbing feat- 
ures — we had no lovers. At least, I am not apprized 
that any engagements were made upon the journey, 
although, for my part, I couldn't help falling in love 
just a tiny bit with the charming young ladies who de- 
lighted us with their company. 



34 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Brighton, Friday Morning, June 17. 
Let us call the roll once more at the door of the 
Grand Hotel, Brighton, that our history may be com- 
plete : Mr. and Mrs. B., London ; Mr. and Mrs. T. G., 
Wolverhampton; Miss M. L., Dunfermline; Miss E. F., 
Liverpool ; Mr. and Mrs. McC, Miss J. J., Miss A. F., 
Mr. B. F. V., Mr. H. P., Jr., Mr. G. F. McC, the Queen 
Dowager and the Scribe. These be the names of the 
new and delectable order of the Gay Charioteers, who 
mounted their coach at Brighton and began the long 
journey to the North Countrie on the day and date 
aforesaid. And here, O my good friends, let me say 
that until a man has stood at the door and seen his 
own four-in-hand drive up before him, the horses — four 
noble bays — champing the bits, their harness buckles 
glistening in the sun ; the coach spick and span new 
and as glossy as a mirror, with the coachman on the 
box and the footman behind ; and then, enchanted, has 
called to his friends, " Come, look, there it is, just as I 
had pictured it ! " and has then seen them mount to 
their places with beaming faces — until, as I say, he has 
had that experience, don't tell me that he has known 
the most exquisite sensation in life, for I know he 
hasn't. It was Izaak Walton, I believe, who when 
asked what he considered the most thrilling sensation 
in life, answered that he supposed it was the tug of a 
thirty-pound salmon. Well, that was not a bad guess. 
I have taken the largest trout of the season on bonnie 



The Supreme Moment. 35 

Loch Leven, have been drawn over Spirit Lake in 
Iowa in my skiff for half an hour by a monster pickerel, 
and have played with the speckled beauties in Dead 
River. It is glorious; making a hundred thousand is 
nothing to it ; but there's a thrill beyond that, my dear 
old quaint Izaak. I remember in one of my sweet 
strolls " ayont the wood mill braes " with a great man, 
my Uncle Bailie M. — and I treasure the memory of 
these strolls as among the chief of my inheritance — this 
very question came up. I asked him what he thought 
the most thrilling thing in life. He mused awhile, as 
was the Bailie's wont, and I said, " I think I can tell 
you, Uncle." "What is it then, Andrea?" (Not 
Andrew for the world.) " Well, Uncle, I think that 
when, in making a speech, one feels himself lifted, as 
it were, by some divine power into regions beyond him- 
self, in which he seems to soar without effort, and swept 
by enthusiasm into the expression of some burning 
truth, which has laid brooding in his soul, throwing 
policy and prudence to the winds, he feels words whose 
eloquence surprises himself, burning hot, hissing through 
him like molten lava coursing the veins, he throws it 
forth, and panting for breath hears the quick, sharp, 
explosive roar of his fellow-men in thunder of assent, 
the precious moment which tells him that the audience 
is his own, but one soul in it and that his ; I think this 
the supreme moment of life." " Go ! Andrea, ye've hit 
it!" cried the Bailie, and didn't the dark eye sparkle! 



36 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

He had felt this often, had the Bailie ; his nephew had 
only now and then been near enough to imagine the 
rest. 

The happiness of giving happiness is far sweeter than 
the pleasure direct, and I recall no moments of my life 
in which the rarer pleasure seemed to suffuse my whole 
heart as when I stood at Brighton and saw my friends 
take their places that memorable morning. In this 
variable, fantastic climate of Britain the weather is ever 
a source of solicitude. What must it have been to me, 
when a good start was all important ! I remember I 
awoke early in the morning and wondered whether 
it was sunny or rainy. If a clear day could have been 
purchased, it would have been obtained at almost any 
outlay. I could easily tell our fate by raising the win- 
dow-blind, but I philosophically decided that it was 
best to lie still and take what heaven might choose 
to send us. I should know soon enough. If rain it 
was, I could not help it ; if fair, it was glorious. But 
let me give one suggestion to those who in England 
are impious enough to ask heaven to change its plans : 
don't ask for dry weather ; always resort to that last 
extremity when it is " a drizzle-drozzle " you wish. 
Your supplications are so much more likely to be an- 
swered, you know. 

There never was a lovelier morning in England 
than that which greeted me when I pulled up the 
heavy Venetian blind and gazed on the rippling sea 



The Start. 37 

before me, with its hundreds of pretty little sails. I 
repeated to myself these favorite lines as I stood en- 
tranced: 

" The Bridegroom Sea is toying' with the shore, 
His wedded bride ; and in the fulness of his marriage joy 
He decorates her tawny brow with shells, 
Retires a space to see how fair she looks, 
Then proud runs up to kiss her." 

That is what old ocean was doing that happy morn- 
ing. I saw him at it, and I felt that if all created 
beings had one mouth I should like to kiss them too. 

All seated ! The Queen Dowager next the coach- 
man, and I at her side. The horn sounds, the crowd 
cheers, and we are off. A mile or two are traversed 
and there is a unanimous verdict upon one point — this 
suits us ! Finer than we had dreamt ! As we pass 
the pretty villas embossed in flowers and vines and all 
that makes England the home of happy homes, there 
comes the sound of increasing exclamations. How 
pretty ! Oh, how beautiful ! See, see, the roses ! oh 
the roses ! Look at that lawn ! How lovely ! Enchant- 
ing ! entrancing ! superb ! exquisite ! Oh, I never saw 
anything like this in all my life ! And then the hum 
of song — La-/tf-LA-LA, Ra-da-dtf-DUM ! Yes, it is all 
true, all we dreamt or imagined, and beyond it. And 
so on we go through Brighton and up the hills to the 
famous Weald of Sussex. 



38 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

While we make our first stop to water the horses at 
the wayside inn, and some of the men as well, for a glass 
of beer asserts its attractions, let me introduce you to 
two worthies whose names will occupy important places 
in our narrative, and dwell in our memories forever ; 
men to whom we are indebted in a large measure for 
the success of the coaching experiment. 

Ladies and gentlemen, this is Perry, Perry our 
coachman ; and what he doesn't know about horses and 
how to handle them you needn't overtask yourselves 
trying to learn. And this is Joe — joey, my lad — foot- 
man and coach manager. A good head and an elo- 
quent tongue has Joe. Yes, and a kind heart. There 
is nothing he can do or think of doing for any of us — 
and he can do much — that he is not off and doing ere 
we ask him. " Skid, Joe ! " " Right, Perry ! " these talis- 
manic words of our order we heard to-day for the 
first time. It will be many a long day before they 
cease to recall to the Charioteers some of the hap- 
piest recollections of life. Even as I write I am in 
English meadows far away and hear them tingling in 
my ears. 

It was soon discovered that no mode of travel could 
be compared with coaching. By all other modes the 
views are obstructed by the hedges and walls ; upon 
the top of the coach the eye wanders far and wide, 

" O'er deep waving fields and pastures green, 
With gentle slopes and groves between." 



Rural England. 39 

Everthing of rural England is seen, and how exquisitely- 
beautiful it all is, this quiet, peaceful, orderly land ! 

" The ground's most gentle climplement 
(As if God's finger touched, but did not press, 
In making England) — such an up and down 
Of verdure ; nothing too much up and down, 
A ripple of land, such little hills the sky- 
Can stoop to tenderly and the wheat-fields climb ; 
Such nooks of valleys lined with orchises, 
Fed full of noises by invisible streams, 
I thought my father's land was worthy too of being Shake- 
speare's." 

I think this extract from Mr. Winter's charming 
volume expresses the feelings one has amid such scenes 
better than anything I know of : 

" If the beauty of England were merely superficial, 
it would produce a merely superficial effect. It would 
cause a passing pleasure, and would be forgotten. It 
certainly would not — as now in fact it does — inspire a 
deep, joyous, serene and grateful contentment, and lin- 
ger in the mind, a gracious and beneficent remem- 
brance. The conquering and lasting potency of it re- 
sides not alone in loveliness of expression, but in love- 
liness of character. Having first greatly blessed the 
British Islands with the natural advantages of position, 
climate, soil, and products, nature has wrought out 
their development and adornment as a necessary con- 
sequence of the spirit of their inhabitants. The pictu- 



4o Four-in-Ha7id in Britain. 

resque variety and pastoral repose of the English land- 
scape spring, in a considerable measure, from the 
imaginative taste and the affectionate gentleness of the 
English people. The state of the country, like its 
social constitution, flows from principles within (which 
are constantly suggested), and it steadily comforts and 
nourishes the mind with a sense of kindly feeling, moral 
rectitude, solidity, and permanence. Thus, in the pe- 
culiar beauty of England the ideal is made the actual, 
is expressed in things more than in words, and in 
things by which words are transcended. Milton's 
' L'Allegro,' fine as it is, is not so fine as the scenery — 
the crystallized, embodied poetry — out of which it 
arose. All the delicious rural verse that has been 
written in England is only the excess and superflux of 
her own poetic opulence ; it has rippled from the hearts 
of her poets just as the fragrance floats away from her 
hawthorn hedges. At every step of his progress the 
pilgrim through English scenes is impressed with this 
sovereign excellence of the accomplished fact, as con- 
trasted with any words that can be said in its celebra- 
tion." 

The roads are a theme of continual wonder to those 
who have not before seen England. To say that from 
end to end of our journey they equalled those of New 
York Central Park would be to understate the fact. 
They are equal to the park roads on days when these 
are at their best, and are neither wet nor dusty. We 



The Scribe as a Singer. 41 

bowl over them as balls do over billiard-tables. It is a 
glide rather than a roll, with no sensation of jolting. 
You could write or read on the coach almost as well as 
at home. I mean you could if there was any time to 
waste doing either, and you were not afraid of missing 
some beautiful picture which would dwell in your mem- 
ory for years, or Aleck's last joke, or the Prima Donna's 
sweet song, Andrew's never-to-be-forgotten lilt, or the 
Queen Dowager's Scotch ballad pertaining to the dis- 
trict ; or what might be even still more likely, if you 
didn't want to tell a story yourself, or even join in the 
roaring chorus as we roll along, for truly the exhilarat- 
ing effect of the triumphant progress is such as to em- 
bolden one to do anything. I always liked Artemus 
Ward, perhaps because I found a point of similarity 
between him and myself. It was not he but his friend 
who " was saddest when he sang," as the old song has 
it. I noticed that my friends were strangely touched 
when I burst into song. I do not recall an instance 
when I was encored ; but the apparent slight arose 
probably from a suspicion that if recalled I would have 
essayed the same song. This is unjust ! I have another 
in reserve for such an occasion, if it ever happen. The 
words are different, although the tune may be some- 
what similar. When I like a tune I stick to it, more or 
less, and when there are fine touches in several tunes I 
have been credited with an eclectic disposition. How- 
ever this may be, there was never time upon our coach 



42 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

for anything which called our eyes and our attention 
from the rapid succession of pretty cottages, fine flow- 
ers, the birds and lowing herds, the grand lights and 
grander shadows of that uncertain fleecy sky, the luxu- 
riance of the verdure, flowery dells and dewy meads, 
and the hundred surprising beauties that make England 
England. 

These bind us captive and drive from the mind 
every thought of anything but the full and intense 
enjoyment of the present hour ; and this comes without 
thought. Forgetful of the past, regardless of the fu- 
ture, from morn till night, it is one uninterrupted season 
of pure and unalloyed joyousness. Never were the 
words of the old Scotch song as timely as now : 

"The present moment is our ain, 
The neist we never see." 

Having got the party fairly started, let me tell you 
something of our general arrangements for the cam- 
paign. The coach, horses, and servants are engaged at 
a stipulated sum per week, which includes their travel- 
ling expenses. We have nothing to do with their bills 
or arrangements, neither are we in any wise responsible 
for accidents to the property. Every one of the party 
is allowed a small hand-bag and a strap package ; the 
former contains necessary articles for daily use, the lat- 
ter waterproofs, shawls, shoes, etc. The Gay Chariot- 
eers march with supplies for one week. The trunks 



Luncheon. 43 

are forwarded every week to the point where we are to 
spend the succeeding Sunday, so that every Saturday 
evening we replenish our wardrobe, and at the Sunday 
dinner appear in full dress, making a difference be- 
tween that and other days. This we found well worth 
observing, for our Sunday evenings were thereby made 
somewhat unusual affairs. In no case did any failure 
of this plan occur, nor were we ever put to the slightest 
inconvenience about clothing. Our hotel accommoda- 
tions were secured by telegraph. The General Manager 
had engaged these for our first week's stage, previous 
to our start. 

The question of luncheon soon came to the front, 
for should we be favored with fine weather, much of 
the poetry and romance of the journey was sure to 
cluster round the midday halt. It was by a process of 
natural selection that she who had proved her genius 
for making salads on many occasions during the voyage 
should be unanimously appointed to fill the important 
position of stewardess, and given full and unlimited 
control of the hampers. Our stewardess only lived up 
to a well-deserved reputation by surprising us day after 
day with luncheons far excelling any dinner. Two 
coaching hampers, very complete affairs, were obtained 
in London. These the stewardess saw filled at the inn 
every morning with the best the country could afford, 
under her personal supervision, a labor of love. Our 
Pard's sweet tooth led him to many early excursions 



44 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

before breakfast in quest of sweets and flowers for 
us. Aleck was butler, and upon him we placed implicit 
reliance, and with excellent reason too, for the essential 
corkscrew and the use thereof — which may be rated as 
of prime necessity upon such a tour — and Aleck never 
failed us as superintendent of the bottles. 

It was in obedience to the strictest tenets of our 
civil service reform association that the most important 
appointment of all was made with a unanimity which 
must ever be flattering to the distinguished gentleman 
who received the highly responsible appointment of 
General Manager. Just here let me say, for the peace 
of mind of any gentleman who may be tempted to try 
the coaching experiment upon a large scale, and for an 
extended tour : Dotit, unless you have a dear friend with 
a clear head, an angelic disposition, a great big heart, 
and the tact essential for governing, who for your sake 
is willing to relieve you from the cares incident to such 
a tour — that is, if you expect to enjoy it as a recrea- 
tion, and have something that will linger forever after in 
the memory as an adventure in wonderland. Should 
you however be one of those rare men who have a real 
liking for details, and so conceited as to think that you 
never get things done so well as when your own genius 
superintends them, being in this respect the antipode 
of a modest man like myself — who never does by any 
chance find any one who can so completely bungle mat- 
ters as himself — it may of course be different. As for 



Grouping. 45 

me, the very first inquiry I shall make of myself when I 
am about to take the road again — as pray heaven I may 
some day, and that ere long — will be this : Now who 
can I get for Prime Minister, one who will like to gov- 
ern and allow me to laugh and frolic with the party 
without a care ? The position of a king in a constitu- 
tional monarchy is the very ideal for a chief to emulate. 
It is delightful to feel so very certain that one " can do 
no wrong," even if infallibility be obtained, as Queen 
Victoria's is, because she is no longer allowed to do 
anything. Such was the case with the Scribe during 
the Coaching Tour. Happy man ! 

There must always be a tendency toward grouping 
in a large party : groups of four or five, and in extreme 
cases a group of two ; and especially is this so when 
married people, cousins or dear friends, are of the com- 
pany. To prevent anything like this, and insure our 
being one united party, I asked the gentlemen not to 
occupy the same seat twice in succession — a rule which 
gave the ladies a different companion at each meal, and 
a change upon the coach several times each day. This 
was understood to apply in a general way to our strolls, 
although in this case the General Manager, with rare 
discretion, winked at many infringements, which insured 
him grateful constituents of both sexes. Young people 
should never be held too strictly to such rules, and a 
chaperon's duties, as we all know, are often most suc- 
cessfully performed by a wise and salutary neglect. 



46 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Our General Manager and even the Queen Dowager 
were considerate. 

We generally started about half-past nine in the 
morning, half an hour earlier or later as the day's jour- 
ney was to be long or short ; and here let me record, 
to the credit of all, that not in any instance had we 
ever to wait for any of the party beyond the five min- 
utes allowed upon all well managed lines for "variation 
of watches." The horn sounded, and we were off 
through the crowds which were usually around the 
hotel door awaiting the start. Nor even at meals were 
we less punctual or less mindful of the comfort of 
others. I had indeed a model party in every way, and 
in none more praiseworthy than in this, that the Chari- 
oteers were always " on time." The Prima Donna's 
explanation may have reason in it : " Who wouldn't be 
ready and waiting to mount the coach ! I'd as soon 
be late, and a good deal sooner, maybe, for my wed- 
ding : and as for meals, there was even a better reason 
why we were always ready then : we couldn't wait." 
We did indeed eat like hawks, especially at luncheon — 
a real boy's hunger — the ravenous gnawing after a day 
at the sea gathering whilks. I thought this had left 
me, but that with many another characteristic of glori- 
ous youth came once more to make daft callants of us. 
O those days ! those happy, happy days ! Can they 
be brought back once more? Will a second coaching 
trip do it ? I would be off next summer. But one 



Aristocratic Gypsies. 47 

hesitates to put his luck to the test a second time, lest 
the perfect image of the first be marred. We shall 
see. 

During the evening we had learned the next day's 
stage — where we were to stay over night, and, what is 
almost as important, in what pretty nook we were to 
rest at midday ; on the banks of what classic stream or 
wimpling burn, or in what shady, moss-covered dell. 
Several people of note in the neighborhood dropped 
into the inn, as a rule, to see the American coaching 
party, whose arrival in the village had made as great a 
stir as if it were the advance show-wagon of Barnum's 
menagerie. From these the best route and objects of 
interest to be seen could readily be obtained. The 
ordnance maps which we carried kept us from trouble 
about the right roads ; not only this, they gave us the 
name of every estate we passed, and of its owner. 

The horses have to be considered in selecting a 
luncheon-place, which should be near an inn, where 
they can be baited. This was rarely inconvenient ; but 
upon a few occasions, when the choice spot was in some 
glen or secluded place, we took oats along, and our 
horses were none the worse off for nibbling the road- 
side grass and drinking from the brook. Nor did the 
party look less like the aristocratic Gypsies they felt 
themselves to be from having their coach standing on 
the moor or in the glen, and the horses picketed near 
by, as if we were just the true-born Gypsies. And 



48 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

was there ever a band of Gypsies happier than we, or 
freer from care? Didn't we often dash off in a roar: 

" See ! the smoking bowl before us, 

Mark our jovial ragged ring ! 
Round and round take up the chorus, 

And in raptures let us sing. 
A fig for those by law protected ! 

Liberty's a glorious feast ! 
Courts for cowards were erected, 

Churches built to please the priest." 

Halt ! Ho for luncheon ! Steps, Joe. Yes, sir ! 
The committee of two dismount and select the choicest 
little bit of sward for the table. It is not too warm, 
still we will not refuse the shade of a noble chestnut or 
fragrant birk, or the side of a tall hedge, on which lie, 
in one magnificent bed, masses of honeysuckle, over 
which nod, upon graceful sprays, hundreds of the pret- 
tiest wild roses, and at whose foot grow the foxglove 
and wandering willie. 

It is no easy matter to decide which piece of the 
velvety lawn is finest ; but here come Joe and Perry 
with armfuls of rugs to the chosen spot. The rugs are 
spread two lengthwise a few feet apart, and one across 
at the top and bottom, leaving for the table in the cen- 
tre the fine clovered turf with buttercups and daisies 
pied. The ladies have gathered such handfuls of wild 
flowers ! How fresh, how unaffected, and how far 
beyond the more pretentious bouquets which grace our 



Wild Flowers. 49 

city dinners! These are Nature's own dear children, 
fresh from her lap, besprinkled with the dews of heaven, 
unconscious of their charms. How touchingly beauti- 
ful are the wild flowers ! real friends are they, close to 
our hearts, while those of the conservatory stand out- 
side, fashionable acquaintances only. 

Give us the wild flowers, and take your prize varie- 
ties ; for does not even Tennyson (a good deal of a cul- 
tivated flower himself) sing thus of the harshest of them 
all, though to a Scotsman sacred beyond all other veg- 
etation : 

. . . " the stubborn thistle bursting 
Into glossy purples, which outredclen 
All voluptuous garden roses." 

And in that wonder of our generation, the " Light of 
Asia," it is no garden beauties who are addressed : 

" Oh, flowers of the field ! Siddarthasaid, 
Who turn your tender faces to the sun — 
Glad of the light, and grateful with sweet breath 
Of fragrance and these robes of reverence donned, 
Silver and gold and purple — none of ye 
Miss perfect living, none of ye despoil 
Your happy beauty. . . . 
What secret know ye that ye grow content, 
From time of tender shoot to time of fruit, 
Murmuring such sun-songs from your feathered crowns ? " 

You may be sure that while in Scotland old Scotia's 
dear emblem, and that most graceful of all flowers, the 

4 



50 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 

Scottish bluebell, towered over our bouquets, and 
that round them clustered the others less known to 
fame. 

It was an easy matter to tie the flowers round sticks 
and press these into the soft lawn, and then there was a 
table for you — equal it who can ! Round this the 
travellers range themselves upon the rugs, sometimes 
finding in back to back an excellent support, for they 
sat long at table ; and see at the head — for it's the head 
wherever she sits — the Queen Dowager is comfortably 
seated upon the smaller of the two hampers. The 
larger placed on end before her gives her a private 
table : she has an excellent seat, befitting her dignity. 
Joe and Perry have put the horses up at the inn, and 
are back with mugs of foaming ale, bottles of Devon- 
shire cider, lemonade, and pitchers of fresh creamy 
milk, that all tastes may be suited. The stewardess 
and her assistants have set table, and now luncheon 
is ready. No formal grace is necessary, for our hearts 
have been overflowing with gratitude all the day long 
for the blessed happiness showered upon us. We owe 
no man a grudge, harbor no evil, have forgiven all our 
enemies, if we have any — for we doubt the existence of 
enemies, being ourselves the enemy of none. Our 
hearts open to embrace all things, both great and 
small ; we are only sony that so much is given to us, so 
little to many of our more deserving fellow-creatures. 
Truly, the best grace this, before meat or after ! 



Good Appetites. 51 

" He prayeth best who loveth best 
All things both great and small ; 
For the dear God who loveth us, 
He made and loveth all." 

In these days we feel for the Deevil himself, and 
wish with Burns that he would take a thought and 
mend ; and, as Howells says, " if we had the naming of 
creation we wouldn't call snakes snakes " if the christen- 
ing took place while we were coaching. 

No one would believe what fearful appetites driving 
in this climate gives one. Shall we ever feel such 
tigerish hunger again ! but, what is just as important, 
shall we ever again have such luncheons ! " Give me a 
sixpence," said the beggar to the duke, " for I have 
nothing." "You lie, you beggar; I'd give a thousand 
pounds for such an appetite as you've got." Well, 
ours would have been cheap to you, my lord duke, at 
double the money. What a roar it caused one day 
when one of the young ladies was discovered quietly 
taking the third slice of cold ham. " Well, girls, you 
must remember I was on the front seat, and had to 
stand the brunt of the weather this morning." Capital ! 
I had been there at her side, and got my extra allow- 
ance on the same ground ; and those who bore the brunt 
of the weather claimed a great many second and even 
third allowances during the journey. 

Aleck (Adleck, not El-eck, remember), set the table 
in a roar so often with his funny sayings and doings 



52 Fonr-in-Ha7id in Britain. 

that it would fill the record were I to recount them, but 
one comes to mind as I write which was a great hit. 

A temperance — no, a total abstinence lady rebuked 
him once for taking a second or third glass of some- 
thing, telling him that he should try to conquer his 
liking for it, and assuring him that if he would only re- 
sist the Devil he would flee from him. " I know," said 
the wag (and with such a comical, good-natured ex- 
pression), " that is what the good book says, Mrs. , 

but I have generally found that I was the fellow who 
had to get y You couldn't corner Aaleck. 

Although we were coaching, it must not be thought 
that we neglected the pleasures of walking. No, indeed, 
we had our daily strolls. Sometimes the pedestrians 
started in advance of the coach from the inn or the 
luncheon ground, and walked until overtaken, and at 
other times we would dismount some miles before we 
reached the end of the day's journey, and walk into the 
village. This was a favorite plan, as we found by 
arriving later than the main body our rooms were 
ready and all the friends in our general sitting-room 
standing to welcome us. 

Hills upon the route were always hailed as giving us 
an opportunity for a walk or a stroll, and all the sport 
derivable from a happy party in country lanes. It was 
early June, quite near enough to 

" The flowery May who from her green lap throws 
The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose," 



Pleasures of Walking. 53 

and the hundreds of England's wild beauties with 

" quaint enamell'd eyes, 
That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, 
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers." 

Many a time was Perry instructed to wait for us 
at the foot of the hill, or a mile or two in advance, 
while we spent the happy intervals in examining 1 still 
closer than it was possible to do while driving the 
beauties which captivated us at every turn. The pleas- 
ures of walking set against those of coaching might 
well furnish matter for an evening's debate. Combined, 
as they were with us, the result was perfection, for they 
are indeed upon such a tour the complement of each 
other. If ever weary of the coach — which we never 
were — nothing like a walk along the Ifedge-rows as a 
substitute, with many a run into out-of-the-way paths, 
which tempted us by their loveliness, and many a 
minute stolen to explore the windings of the brooks 
we passed. I often felt that one of the prettiest 
pictures I had ever seen was that of our own party 
scattered about some bosky dell in the way I have de- 
scribed, while the towering coach-and-four stood out 
clear against the sky upon the hilltop, waiting for us 
to tear ourselves away from scenes among which we 
would linger till the daylight had passed. Let no one 
fail while coaching to work this mine of pure happi- 
ness to the full. 



54 Four -in-Hand in Britain. 

We carried perpetual flowering summer with us as 
we travelled from south to north, plucking the wild 
roses and the honeysuckles from the hedges near 
Brighton, never missing their sweet influences, and 
finding them ready to welcome us at Inverness, 
seven weeks later, as if they had waited till our ap- 
proach to burst forth in their beauty in kindly greeting 
of their kinsmen from over the sea. A dancing, laugh- 
ing welcome did the wild flowers of my native land 
give to us, God bless them ! 

On our arrival at the inn for the night, the General 
Manager examined the rooms and assigned them ; Joe 
and Perry handed over the bags to the servants ; the 
party went direct to their general sitting-room, and in 
a few minutes were taken to their rooms, where all was 
ready for therrr. The two American flags were placed 
upon the mantel of the sitting-room, in which there was 
always a piano, and we sat down to dinner a happy 
band. 

The long twilight and the gloaming in Scotland 
gave us two hours after dinner to see the place ; and 
after our return an hour of musical entertainment was 
generally enjoyed, and we were off to bed to sleep the 
sound, refreshing sleep of childhood's innocent days. 
The duties of the General Manager, however, required 
his attendance down stairs ; he had to-morrow's route 
to learn and the landlord or landlady, as the case might 
be, to see. Some of the male members of the party 



Coaching Weather. 55 

were not loath to assist in this business, and I have 
heard many a story of the pranks played by them — for 
several of my friends are not unlike the piper, " Rory 
Murphy," 

"Who had of good auld sangs the wale 

To please the wives that brewed good ale ; 

He charmed the swats frae cog and pail 

As he cam through Dumbarton." 

No doubt the landlord's laugh was ready chorus, 
and the Gay Charioteers of this department, I make 
bold to say, tasted most of the " far ben " barrels of 
every landlord or landlady in their way northward. 
The question of the weather occurs to every one. " If 
you have a dry season, it may be done ; if a wet one, 
I doubt it," was the opinion of one of my wisest friends 
in Britain. We were surprisingly fortunate in this re- 
spect. Only one day did we suffer seriously from rain. 
A gentle shower fell now and then to cool the air and lay 
the dust, or rather to prevent the dust, and seemingly 
to recreate vegetation. Who wouldn't bear a shower, if 
properly supplied with waterproofs and umbrellas, for 
the fresh glory revealed thereafter. Only a continual 
downpour for days could have dampened the ardor of 
the Gay Charioteers. Good coaching weather may be 
expected in June and July, if one may indulge any 
weather anticipations in England. After we left the 
deluge came ; nothing but rain during August and 
September, at least such was the report — but the con- 



56 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 

veniences of living are so great and the discomforts so 
few in England that I incline to the opinion, especially 
when I take into consideration the well-known tendency 
of the islanders to grumble, that far too much is made 
out of the so-called bad weather. We had a curious 
illustration of this. One day we heard some rumbling 
sounds which would scarcely pass with us for thunder, 
and we were amused next morning to read in the news- 
papers of the terrific thunder-storm which had passed 
over the district. All things are gentle and well be- 
haved in this sober, steady-going, conservative land. 
Even Jove himself " roars you as mildly as a sucking 
dove." Pluvius, too, is less terrible than he is painted, 
though the green, green grass, the smiling hedgerows, 
the luxuriant vegetation everywhere tells of a moist 
nature and a disposition to weep at short intervals ; but 
the rain comes gently down as if all the while begging 
your pardon and explaining that it couldn't possibly 
help it, the sky being unable to keep it any longer in 
its overburdened bosom. Strong, thick shoes, one pair 
in reserve, and overshoes for the ladies, heavy woollen 
clothing — under and over — a waterproof, an umbrella, 
and a felt hat that won't spoil — these rendered us al- 
most independent of the weather and prepared us to 
encounter the worst ever predicted of the British cli- 
mate ; and this is saying a great deal, for the natives 
do grumble inordinately about it. As I have said, 
however, our travelling was never put to a severe test. 



Wayside Inns. 57 

England and Scotland smiled upon the coaching party, 
and compelled us all to fall deeply in love with their 
unrivalled charms. We thought that even in tears this 
blessed isle must still be enchanting. 

The same horses (with one exception) took us 
through from Brighton to Inverness. This has sur- 
prised some horsemen here, but little do they know of 
the roads and climate, or of Perry's care. Our average 
distance, omitting days when we rested, was thirty-two 
miles, and horses will actually improve on such a jour- 
ney, as ours did, if not pushed too fast and not forced 
to pull beyond their strength up steep hills. The 
continual desire of most of our party to dismount and 
enjoy a walk gave our horses a light coach where the 
road was such as to bring them to a walk, and they 
were actually in better condition after the journey than 
when we started. 

For luncheon, " good my liege, all place a temple 
and all seasons summer," but for lodgings and entertain- 
ment for man and beast, how did we manage these ? 
Shall we not take our ease in our inn ? and shall not 
mine host of The Garter, ay and mine hostess too, 
prove the most obliging of people ? I do not suppose 
that it would be possible to find in any other country 
such delightful inns at every stage of such a journey. 
Among many pretty objects upon which memory lov- 
ingly rests, these little wayside inns stand prominently 
forward. The very names carry one back to quaint days 



58 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

of old : " The Lamb and Lark," " The Wheat Sheaf," 
" The Barley Mow." Oh, you fat wight ! your inn was 
in Eastcheap, but in your march through Coventry, 
when you wouldn't go with your scarecrows, it was to 
some wayside inn you went, you rogue, with its trailing 
vines, thatched roof, and pretty garden flower-pots in 
the windows ; and upon such excursions it was, too, 
that you acquired that love of nature which enabled 
the master with six words to cover most that was un- 
unsavory in your character, and hand you down to gen- 
erations unborn, shrived and absolved. Dear old boy — 
whom one would like to have known — for after all you 
were right, Jack : " If Adam fell in an age of innocency, 
what was poor Jack Falstaff to do in an age of vil- 
lainy ! " There was something pure and good at bot- 
tom of one who left us after life's vanities were o'er 
playing with flowers and " babbling o' green fields." 
These country hostelries are redolent of the green 
fields. It is in such we would take our ease in our inn. 
The host, hostess, and servants assembled at the door 
upon our arrival, and welcomed us to their home, as 
they also do when we leave to bid us God-speed. We 
mount and drive off with smiles, bows, and wavings of 
the hands from them ; and surely the smiles and good 
wishes of those who have done so much to promote our 
comfort over night are no bad salute for us as we blow 
our horn and start on the fresh dewy mornings upon 
our day's journey. 



British Honesty. 59 

The scrupulous care bestowed upon us and our be- 
longings by the innkeepers excited remark. Not one 
article was lost of the fifty packages, great and small, 
required by fifteen persons. It was not even practicable 
to get rid of any trifling article which had served its 
purpose ; old gloves, or discarded brushes quietly 
stowed away in some drawer or other would be handed 
to us at the next stage, having been sent by express by 
these careful, honest people. It was a great and inter- 
esting occasion, as the reporters say, when the stowed- 
away pair of old slippers which she had purposely left, 
were delivered to one of our ladies with a set speech 
after dinner one evening. Little did she suspect what 
was contained in the nice package which had been for- 
warded. Our cast-off things were veritable devil's 
ducats which would return to plague us. To the 
grandest feature of the Briton's character, the love of 
truth, let one more cardinal virtue be added — his down- 
right honesty. More Englishmen of all ranks, high and 
low, in proportion to population, will escape conviction 
upon two counts of the general indictment, " Thou 
shalt not bear false witness," and " Thou shalt not 
steal," than those of any other nationality ; but upon 
a collateral count a larger proportion of Englishmen 
of position will have difficulty in clearing themselves 
than of any other race of which I have knowledge ; for 
while the true Briton will tell the truth, if he has to 
speak at all, he will conceal his honest convictions 



60 Four-in-Ha,7id in Britain. 

upon social and political subjects to such an extent in 
public as to seem to you almost hypocritical when com- 
pared with what he will say freely in private. The 
M. P. of the smoking room of the House of Commons 
and the same man on the floor of the House, for in- 
stance, are two distinct personages, for it is understood 
that whatever is said below is to be above as if unsaid. 
I have often wondered how they merge the one char- 
acter into the other when the day's words and acts 
come under review ere the eyes close in sleep — there is 
such a miserable fear in the breast of the free-born 
Briton that he will in an unguarded moment say some- 
thing which he feels to be true, but which society will 
not think "good form." The great difference between 
a Radical and a Liberal in England is, it seems to me, 
that the one holds the same opinions in public and in 
private, while the other has two sets of opinions, the one 
for public, the other for private use. The maintenance 
of old forms, from which the life has passed out, is no 
doubt the real cause of this phase of English political 
life, apparently so inconsistent with the Saxon love of 
truth ; one sham requires many shams for its support. 

We all have our special weaknesses as to the articles 
we leave behind at hotels. Mine is well known ; but I 
smile as I write at the cleverness shown in preventing 
my lapses during the excursion from coming before the 
congregation. It was a wary eye which was kept upon 
forwarded parcels, mark you, and not once was I pre- 



Wild Flowers. 61 

sented with a left article. The eleventh commandment 
is, not to be found out. 

With these general observations we shall not " leave 
the subject with you," but, retracing our steps to the 
hills overlooking Brighton, we shall mount the coach 
waiting there for us at the King's Cross Inn ; for you 
remember we dismounted there while the horses were 
watered for the first time. Ten miles of bewildering 
pleasure had brought us here ; some of us pushed for- 
ward and had our first stroll, but we scattered in a 
minute, for who could resist the flowers which tempted 
us at every step! The roses were just in season; the 
honeysuckle, ragged robin, meadow sweet, wandering 
willie, and who can tell how many others whose familiar 
names are household words. What bouquets we gath- 
ered, what exclamations of delight were heard as one 
mass of beauty after another burst upon our sight ! We 
began to realize that Paradise lay before us, began to 
know that we had discovered the rarest plan upon earth 
for pleasure ; as for duty that was not within our hori- 
zon. We scarcely knew there was work to do. An 
echo of a moan from the weary world we had cast be- 
hind was not heard. Divinest melancholy was out of 
favor; II Penseroso was discarded for the time, and 
L/Allegro, the happier goddess, crowned, bringing in 
her train — 

" Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, 
And Laughter, holding both his sides; 



62 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Come and trip it as you go, 
On the light, fantastic toe." 

That does not quite express it, for there was time 
for momentary pauses now and then, when the heart 
swelled with gratitude. We were so grateful for being 
so blessed. It was during this stroll that Emma came 
quietly to my side, slipped her arm in mine, and said in 
that rich, velvety English voice which we all envy her : 
" Oh, Andrew, when I am to go home you will have to 
tell me plainly, for indeed I shall never be able to leave 
this of my own accord. I haven't been as happy since 
I was a young girl." " Do you really think you could 
go all the way to Inverness?" "Oh, I could go on 
this way forever." " All right, my lady, ' check your 
baggage through,' as we say in Yankeedom ; " and never 
did that woman lose sight of the coach till it was torn 
away from her at Inverness. 

Some of us dismounted before reaching Horsham, 
and went in pursuit of adventure. In an old tan-yard 
by the wayside, where mon were making leather in the 
crude, old-fashioned way, with horses instead of a steam 
engine for the motive power, we had our first conversa- 
tion with the British rural workman, whose weekly 
earnings do not exceed $3.50. Now, this was not more 
than thirty miles from London, and only twenty-one 
from the sea at Brighton, and yet the oldest man of 
the party, who was the most talkative, had never seen 
the sea. He had been in London once, during the 



Rip Van Winkles. 63 

great Exhibition in 185 1, having been treated to the 
journey by his employer ; but his brother, who lived 
only a few miles beyond, had never been in a railway 
carriage. Their old master had died recently and had 
left a pound ($5) to every workman who had been 
with him for a certain number of years — I think ten. 
Good old master ! The owners had new-fangled no- 
tions, he said, and were spending " heaps o' money " in 
building a steam engine which was not yet ready, but 
which he invited us to go and see. This was to do the 
work much faster ; but (with a shake of the head) " I've 
'earn tell by some as knows it's na sae gid for the 
leather." 

Could we really be within an hour's ride of the cap- 
ital of the world, and yet in the midst of a Sleepy 
Hollow like this, peopled by Rip van Winkles ! This 
incident gives a just idea of the tenacity with which 
the English hold to what their fathers did before them. 
This man's father could not have seen the sea at 
Brighton, nor have visited London short of spending 
a week's earnings. His successor goes along as his 
father did — what was good enough for his father is 



s 



good enough for him, 



" Chained to one spot, 
They draw nutrition, propagate and rot." 

But the next generation is to see all this changed, for 
even southern England is under the compulsory educa- 



64 Foitr-in-Hand in Britain. 

tion act, and the rural population is to have the political 
franchise and a voice in the election of county boards. 

At Horsham we lunched at the King's Arms, walked 
about its principal square, and were off again for Guild- 
ford. As we leave the sea the soil becomes richer, and 
ere we reach Horsham we say, yes, this is England in- 
deed ; but I forgot we passed through the Weald of 
Sussex before reaching Horsham. The cloudy sky cast 
deep shadows with the sunbeams over the rich, wooded 
landscape, as no clear blue sky has power to do, and 
brought to my mind Mrs. Browning's lines : 

..." my woods in Sussex have some purple shades at gloaming, 

Which are worthy of a king in state, or poet in his youth. 

# * ******* 

Oh, the blessed woods of Sussex, I can hear them still around me, 

With their leafy tide of greenery still rippling up the wind ! '' 

And many a stately home did we see, fit for her " who 
spake such good thoughts natural." 

Mrs. Browning is said to have written Lady Gerald- 
ine in a few hours, lying upon a sofa. This is one of 
the proofs cited that genius does its work as if by inspi- 
ration, without great effort. What nonsense ! The 
Agave Americana bursts into flower in a day ; but, look 
you, a hundred years of quiet, unceasing growth, which 
stopped not night nor day, was the period of labor pre- 
ceding the miracle — a hundred years, during all of 
which it drank of the sunshine and the dews. Scott 
wrote some of his best works in a few weeks, but 



Guildford. 65 

for a lifetime he never flagged in his work of gathering 
the fruits of song and story. Burns dashed off " A 
man's a man for a' that " in a jiffy. Yes, but for how- 
many years were his very heartstrings tingling and his 
blood boiling at the injustice of hereditary rank! His 
life is in that song, not a few hours of it. 



Guildford, June 17. 
The approach to Guildford gives us our first real 
perfect English lane — so narrow and so bound in by 
towering hedgerows worthy the name. Had we met 
a vehicle at some of the prettiest turns there would 
have been trouble, for, although the lane is not quite as 
narrow as the pathway of the auld brig, where two 
wheelbarrows trembled as they met, yet a four-in-hand 
upon an English lane requires a clear track. Vegeta- 
tion near Guildford is luxuriant enough to meet our 
expectations of England. It was at the White Lion 
we halted, and here came our first experience of quar- 
ters for the night. The first dinner en route was a 
decided success in our fine sitting-room, the American 
flags, brought into requisition for the first time to dec- 
orate the mantel, bringing to all sweet memories of 
home. During our stroll to-day we stopped at a small 
village inn before which pretty roses grew, hanging in 
clusters upon its sides. It was a very small and hum- 
ble inn indeed, the tile floors sanded, and the furniture 
of the tap-room only plain wood — there were no chairs, 

5 



66 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

only benches around the table where the hinds sit at 
night, drinking home-brewed beer, smoking their clay 
pipes, and discussing not the political affairs of the 
nation, but the affairs of their little world, bounded by 
the hall at one end of the estate, and the parsonage 
at the other. The merits of the gray mare, or the 
qualities of the last breed of sheep at the home farm, 
or the new-fangled plough which the squire has been 
rash enough to order. The landlady told us that she 
had recently moved from one of the midland towns 
to this village to secure purer air for the children, who 
had not been thriving well. Her husband was a 
gardener and worked for the squire. Two pretty little 
girls were brought in for us to see, true Saxons, with 
blue eyes and light colored hair, but with less color 
in their sweet innocent faces than usual — the result 
of dirty, crowded Leeds, no doubt — but soon to be 
changed by the country air. The eldest girl could 
not have been more than six or seven years old, but 
when she was given a few pence she went to the next 
room and brought a sheet of paper upon which were 
pasted some penny postage stamps. She was going at 
once to the post- office to buy more stamps with her 
pennies. On inquiring we learned that the Post Office 
Department receives deposits of a shilling in stamps 
and allows two and a half per cent, interest I think, 
upon them, and "the squire" God bless him! had 
promised all the children upon his estates, which I trust 



A Generous Squire. 67 

were vast, that whenever they saved eleven stamps he 
would give the last one to complete the shilling. In 
this way he hopes to instil into the young the impor- 
tance of beginning early to save something for a rainy 
day. The still younger girl had also her stamp paper. 
The English are an improvident race, not given to 
denying themselves to-day that they may feast later 
on. " Do not put off till to-morrow what can be done 
to-day " is generally construed to mean, that the cake 
may as well be eaten at once, so that upon the whole 
we were not displeased to see these children trained to 
accumulate ; but nevertheless it did seem pitiful that 
the dear little lambs, instead of sporting without a care, 
should have so early to learn that life is to the mass 
mainly a struggle for subsistence. Civilization is a fail- 
ure till all this be changed. What a pity the name 
and address of that squire are mislaid. He evidently 
feels that property has its duties as well as its rights. 
The village and the inn and all the surroundings 
showed that the Hall was, in this instance, as it is 
in so many others, the centre and source of good influ- 
ences. " He has a good wife and earnest thinking and 
working daughters," said one of the party. Surely he 
has and they do their part or he could not succeed. It 
was quite safe to infer this, was the verdict. Man is 
a poor agency for such work, left to himself. It needs 
woman's patience and glowing sympathy to work im- 
provement in the manners and customs of the rural 



68 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

population. Man may supply the money, which cor- 
responds only to barren faith among the virtues ; it is 
to woman we must look for the harvest — good works. 

When we remounted the coach, one regret found 
loud expression, and as the Scribe writes to-day, he 
wishes the omission could be remedied. Why did not 
we give these children a shilling each, with strict injunc- 
tions to gorge themselves with taffy and gingerbread, 
not a penny of it to be saved. A regular spree regard- 
less of consequences ! " Oh ! it would have made them 
ill," said one. Well, suppose it did, just think of the 
legacy left them, a dream for years that they had been 
brought to death's door by too much taffy ! Why, 
the sweet taste would have lingered in the pretty 
little mouths till womanhood, and they would have 
thought about their illness as Conn in the Shaughraun 
did about his month in jail for taking the squire's 
horse for a run with the hounds: "Begorra! it was 
worth it ! " 

It might have given them a taste for dissipation, and 
they would have ceased to gather stamps, and turned 
out badly, was the next suggestion. This was seem- 
ingly agreed to by the majority, but there was one who 
wished he had secretly conveyed to the cherubs, at least 
a six-pence each to be entirely devoted to gormandizing. 
" Take care of your pence and the pounds will take care 
of themselves," the Queen Dowager remarked, is one 
of Ben Franklin's wisest proverbs. There was one at 



Franklin s Proverb. 69 

least of her children who had good reason to re- 
member that favorite axiom. During his temporary- 
absence from school, good Mr. Martin had instituted 
a rule that each one in the class should repeat a prov- 
erb before the lessons began. Her offspring was at the 
foot of the class, from absence it is to be hoped, and as 
each boy and girl spoke his proverb (they were taught 
together in those days, much to the advantage of both 
sexes, for who wanted to be a dunce before pretty 
and clever A. R.) they had an unfamiliar sound, but 
when his turn came he innocently gave them his moth- 
er's favorite from Franklin. It was like introducing a 
strange dog into a crowded church. After the uproar 
had subsided, the teacher said that while it was no 
doubt a very good proverb, it was not just in place 
among the sacred proverbs of Solomon. Another story 
was related of one of the Charioteers who, when told 
that he ought to sing when the others did in church, 
struck up, at the top of his shrill piping voice, " Come 
under my plaidie, the night's going to fa' ; " when the 
congregation began the Psalm. His uncle was so con- 
vulsed that, notwithstanding the angry glances of many 
near him, he could not stop the performance in time 
to prevent an unseemly interruption. 

We had done our first day's coaching, and a long 
day at that, and looking back it is amusing to remem- 
ber how anxiously we awaited the reports of the ladies 
of our party ; for it was not without grave apprehension 



jo Four-in-Hand i?i Britain. 

that some must fall by the wayside, as it were, as we 
journeyed on. One who had tried coaching upon this 
side had informed us that few ladies could stand it ; 
but it was very evident that the spirits and appetites of 
ours were entirely satisfactory, and they all laughed at 
the idea that they could not go on forever. The Queen 
Dowager was quite as fresh as any. It was a shame 
that general orders consigned to bed at an early hour 
two of the ladies thought least robust, while the others 
walked about the suburbs of Guildford until late. 
We stood in the thickening twilight in front of an ivy- 
clad residence for some time, and asked each other 
if anything so exquisite had ever been seen, so full 
of rest, of home. The next morning all were fresh 
and happy, without a trace of fatigue — full of yester- 
day, and quite sure that no other day could equal it. 
But this was often said : many and many a day was 
voted the finest yet, only to be eclipsed in its turn by a 
later, till at last an effort to name our best day led to 
twenty selections, and ended in the general conclusion 
that it was impossible to say which had crowded within 
its hours the rarest treat, for none had all the finest, 
neither did any lack something of the best. But there 
is one point upon which a unanimous verdict can 
always be had from the Gay Charioteers, that to 
such days in the mass none but themselves can be 
their parallel. 

We ran into a book-shop in the morning and obtained 



Cobbctfs Opinion. 71 

a local guide-book, that we might cull for you the proper 
quotations therefrom. It consists of 148 pages, mostly 
given up to notices of the titled people who visited the 
old town long ago ; but who cares about them? Here, 
however, is something of more interest than all those no- 
bodies. Cobbett says of Guildford, in his " Rural Rides :" 

" I, who have seen so many towns, think this the 
prettiest and most happy looking I ever saw in my 
life." There's praise for you ! But, then, he had never 
seen Dunfermline. Here is a characteristic touch of 
that rare, horse-sense kind of a man. He is enraptured 
over the vale of Chilworth. 

" Here, in this tranquil spot, where the nightingales 
are to be heard earlier and later in the year than in any 
other part of England, where the first budding of the 
trees is seen in the spring, where no rigor of seasons can 
ever be felt, where everything seems framed for pre- 
cluding the very thought of wickedness — this has the 
devil fixed on as one of his seats of his grand manufac- 
tory, and perverse and even ungrateful man not only 
lends his aid, but lends it cheerfully." 

Since those days, friend Cobbett, the devil has much 
enlarged his business in gunpowder and bank notes, of 
which you complain. He was only making a start when 
you wrote. The development of manufactures in 
America (under a judicious tariff, be it reverently 
spoken), amazing as it has been, and carried on as a 
rule by the saints, is slow work compared with what his 



72 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 

satanic majesty lias been doing in these two depart- 
ments. We must bestir ourselves betimes. 

You remember Artemus Ward's encounter with the 
colporteur. After a long, dusty day's journey, arriving 
at the hotel, he applied to the barkeeper for a mint-julep, 
and just as Artemus was raising the tempting draught 
to his lips, a hand was laid upon his arm and the opera- 
tion arrested. The missionary in embryo said in a kind 
of sepulchral tone, for he was only a beginner and had 
not yet reached that true professional voice which 
comes only after years of exhortation : " My friend, 
look not upon the wine when it is red. It stingeth like 
a serpent and it biteth as an adder." " Guess not, 
stranger," replied Artemus, " not if you put sugar in it." 

It is just so with bank-notes, friend Cobbett. They 
don't bite worth a cent, neither do they sting, if you 
have government bonds behind them. But this was 
not understood in your day. The Republic had not 
then shown to the world the model system of banking. 
The objection made to it by others, viz., that founded 
as it is upon the obligations of the nation, its discredit 
involves the fall of private credit, counts for little to a 
republican. We would not give much for the man who is 
not willing to stake " his life, his fortune, and his sacred 
honor " upon the solvency of the Republic. Pitiable is 
the man who could think of his petty private means 
when his country was in peril. When the Republic falls, 
let us also fall. 



American Blessings. 73 

There is a funny thing in this guide-book. " There 
also resides Mr. Martin Farquhar Tupper, the author of 
' Proverbial Philosophy,' etc. He has eulogized the 
scene around as follows." Then come two pages of 
Tupper. I naturally looked to see the name of the 
author of the book, but none was given. Such modesty ! 
But the case is a clear one, for who but Tupper 
would quote Tupper! " Sir," said Johnson to Bossy, 
" Sir, I never did the man an injury in my life, and yet 
he would persist in reading his tragedy to me." Here's 
the concluding quotation from the guide-book of Guild- 
ford, and the Scribe promises not to quote much more 
from any similar source. Cobbett says that in Albury 
Park he saw some plants of the " American cran- 
berry, which not only grow here, but bear fruit, and 
therefore it is clear that they may be cultivated with 
great ease in this country." 

Potatoes, tomatoes, and cranberries — look at the 
great blessings America has bestowed upon the " au- 
thor of her being ;" and what won't grow in the rain 
and fog of the old home, doesn't she grow for her 
and send over by every steamer, from canvas-back 
ducks to Newtown pippins ! Thackeray was right in 
saying one night, when some friends were disposed to 
criticise America, " Ah ! well, gentlemen, much can be 
pardoned to a country which produces the canvas-back 
duck." At dinner-tables in England, nowadays, to the 
usual grace, " O Lord ! for what we are about to re- 



74 Four-in-Hand t7i Britain. 

ceive make us truly thankful," should be added, " and 
render us truly grateful to our big son Jonathan, God 
bless him ! " 

One could settle down at the White Lion in Guild- 
ford, and spend a month, at least, visiting every day 
fresh objects of interest, and I have no doubt becoming 
day by day more charmed with the life he was leading. 
In every direction historical scenes, crowded full of 
instructive stories of the past, invite us : and yet to- 
morrow morning the horn will sound, and we shall be 
off, reluctantly saying to ourselves, we must return 
some day when we have leisure, and wander in and 
around, absorb and moralize. This rapid survey is only 
to show us what we can do hereafter. A summer to 
each county would not be too much, and here are 
eight hundred miles from sea to firth to be rushed over 
in seven weeks. Guildford, farewell ! — on " to fresh 
fields and pastures new." 



Saturday, June 18. 
After a delightful breakfast we mount the coach 
and are off through the crowd of lookers-on for our 
second day's journey. During this stage we learned 
the valuable lesson that we should not attempt to coach 
through England without having the ordnance survey 
maps, and paying close attention to them. In this part 
of the country, so near to monster London, the roads 
and lanes are innumerable, and run here, there, and 



The Scribe as a Whip. 75 

everywhere. You can reach any point by many differ- 
ent roads. Guide-posts have a dozen names upon 
them. We did some sailing out of our course to-day, 
and found many charming spots not down in the chart, 
which the straight line would have caused us to miss ; 
it was late ere Windsor's towers made their appear- 
ance. The day was not long enough for us, long as it 
was, but the fifty miles we are said to have traversed 
were quite enough for the horses. But next day would 
be Sunday, we said, and they had a long rest to look 
forward to at Windsor. 



Windsor, June 18-20. 
Upon reaching the forest, the General Manager 
insisted that the Scribe should take the reins and drive 
his party through the royal domain. This was his first 
trial as the whip of a four-in-hand, and not a very success- 
ful one either. It's easy enough to handle the ribbons, 
but how to do this and spare a hand for the whip 
troubles one. As Josh Billings remarks in the case of 
religion, " It's easy enough to get religion,' but to hold 
on to it is what bothers a fellow. A good grip is here 
worth more than rubies." The Scribe had not the grip 
for the whip, but it did give him a rare pleasure when 
he got a moment or two now and then (when Perry 
held the whip), to think that he was privileged to drive 
his friends in style up to Her Majesty's very door at 
Windsor. Only to the door, for that good woman 
was not at home, but in bonnie Scotland, sensible lady ! 



76 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

As we were en route ourselves, we were quite in the 
fashion ; some of her republican subjects, however, were 
quite disappointed at not getting a glimpse of her 
during the tour. 

The drive through the grounds gave to some of our 
party the first sight of an English park, and it is certain 
that the impression it made upon them will never be 
effaced. 

Windsor at last, a late dinner and a stroll through 
the quaint town, the castle towering over all in the 
cloudy night, and we were off to bed, but not before we 
had enjoyed an hour of the wildest frolic, though tired 
and sleepy after the long drive. We laughed until our 
sides ached, but how vain to attempt to describe the 
fun ! To detail the trifles light as air which kept us in 
a roar during our excursion is like offering you stale 
champagne. No, no, gone forever are those rare noth- 
ings which were so delicious when fresh ; but, for the 
benefit of the members of the Circle, I'll just say 
" Poole." It was a happy thought to put the General 
Manager's suit of new clothes in Davie's package and 
await results. We had ordered travelling suits in Lon- 
don, and when they arrived we all began to try them 
on at once. Davie's disappointment at getting an odd- 
looking suit fancied by the General Manager was so 
genuine ! But such a perfect fit, though a mistake, 
maybe, as to material ; and then, when he tried his own 
suit, what a misfit it was ! The climax: " David, if you 



Gladstone. jj 

are going to " — but this is too much ! The tears are 
rolling down my cheeks once more as I picture that 
wild scene. 

We heard the chimes at midnight, and then to bed. 
Windsor is nothing unless royal. It is all over royal, 
although Her Majesty was absent. But the Prince of 
Wales was there, and a greater than he — Mr. Glad- 
stone — had run down from muggy London to refresh 
his faded energies by communing with nature. It is 
said that his friends are alarmed at his haggard appear- 
ance toward the close of each week ; but he spends 
Saturday and Sunday in the country, and returns on 
Monday to surprise them at the change. Ah ! he has 
found the kindest, truest nurse, for he knows — 

. . . " that Nature never did betray 
The heart that loved her ; 'tis her privilege, 
Through all the years of this our life, to lead 
From joy to joy ; for she can so inform 
The mind that is within us, so impress 
With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 
The dreary intercourse of daily life, 
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold 
Is full of blessings." 

Mr. Gladstone's fresh appearance Monday mornings 
gratifies his friends, and pleases even his opponents, 



yS Foiir-in-Hand hi Britain. 

for such a man can have no ill-wishers, surely. When 
Confucius had determined to behead the emperor's 
corrupt brother, his counsellors endeavored to dis- 
suade him, from a just fear that the criminal's friends 
would rise and avenge his death. " Friends ! " said the 
sage, " such a character may have adherents, but friends 
never." The result proved his wisdom. No revolt came, 
though Confucius stood by to see justice done, refusing 
to listen to the petition of the emperor for his own 
brother's life. In like manner, Mr. Gladstone may 
have opponents — enemies never. All Englishmen must 
in their hearts honor the man who is a credit to the 
race. By the way, he's Scotch, let me note, and never 
fails to bear in mind and to mention this special cause 
for thankfulness. I suspect that this fact has not a lit- 
tle to do with the intense enthusiasm of Scotland for 
him. We are a queer lot, up in the North Countrie, 
and he is our ain bairn. Blood is thicker than water 
everywhere, but in no part of this world is it so very 
much thicker as beyond the Tweed. 

We attended church at Windsor and saw the great 
man and the Prince come to the door together. There 
the former stopped and the other walked up the aisle, 
causing a flutter in the congregation. Mr. Gladstone 
followed at a respectful distance, and took his seat 
several pews behind. How absurd you are, my young 
lady republican! Can you not understand? One is 
only the leading man in the empire — a man who, in a 



Kings and Princes. 79 

fifty years' tussle with the foremost statesmen of the 
age, has won the crown both for attainments and char- 
acter ; but the other, bless your ignorant little head ! — 
he is a prince. 

Well, if he is, he has never done anything, you say. 
True, but what are kings and princes for? The people 
of England, my dear, not so very long ago, used to have 
it beaten into them that " the king can do no wrong." 
As this is historically the true doctrine and has anti- 
quity on its side, it would have been very un-English to 
reject it ; so they quietly accepted the dogma and made 
it true by arranging that the king should never be al- 
lowed to do anything — it's a way these islanders have — 
the form may be what it likes, the substance must be as 
they wish. They never revolutionize in England — they 
transform. What you complain of then, my red repub- 
lican miss, is really the best proof that the prince will 
make that modern article called a Constitutional Mon- 
arch, and spend his days as the English man-milliner 
Worth — setting the fashions, laying foundation stones, 
and opening fancy bazars. Oh ! you would not be 
such a prince or such a king. The Bruce at Bannock- 
burn, at the head of his countrymen striking for the 
independence of Scotland, and King Edward leading 
his hosts, these were real kings, you say ? The kings of 
to-day are shadows. I am not going to dispute that 
with you, Miss ; times have changed and kings with them; 
but were I Prince of Wales, I would be in Ireland to- 



80 Fottr-in-Hand in Britain. 

day investigating the causes of discontent and devising 
a remedy ; and above all showing my deep and abiding 
sympathy with that portion of my people. This would 
be better than leading men to murder their fellows — as 
your heroes did. Oh yes, indeed, says my young lady 
politician, I should like to be the Prince of Wales just 
to do that. What a hero it would make him ! Why, he 
would rank with Alfred the Good, or George Washing- 
ton. Why doesn't Mr. Gladstone suggest this to him ? 
I believe the Prince would just jump at the chance. 
Well, my dear girl, drop a postal card to the grand old 
man, and you will get his views upon the subject by 
return mail. The conversation ended by a toss of the 
head, and " Well, I would if I were a man. I should like 
a chance ' to talk it up ' to the Prince." As the Prince 
is an admirer of pretty American young ladies, our 
friend might get a hearing and astonish him. 

In the afternoon we attended St. George's Chapel. 
In one of the stalls we saw again that sadly noble lion- 
face — no one ever mistakes Gladstone. He sat wrapped 
in the deepest meditation. He is very pale, haggard, 
and careworn — the weight of empire upon him ! 

"I tell thee, scorner of these whitening hairs, 
When this snow melteth there shall come a flood.'' 

I could not help applying to him Milton's lines : 

. . . " with grave 
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd 



The Queen Dowager. 81 

A pillar of state : deep on his front engraven 
Deliberation sat and public care ; 
And princely counsel in his face yet shone, 
Majestic though in ruin." 

He has work to do yet. If he were only fifty instead 
of seventy odd ! Well, God bless him for what he has 
done ; may he rule England long ! 

A memorable event occurred at Windsor, Sunday, 
June 19th — the Queen Dowager reached her seventy- 
first year. At breakfast Mr. B. rose, and addressing 
himself to her, made one of the sweetest, prettiest 
speeches ever heard. He presented to her an exqui- 
site silver cup, ornamented with birds and flowers, and 
inscribed : " Presented to Mrs. M. C. at Windsor, by 
the members of the coaching-party, upon her seventy- 
first birthday." Mr. B.'s reference to her intense love 
of nature in all its glorious forms, from the tiny gowan 
to the extended landscape, was most appropriate. 

We were completely surprised ; and when the 
speaker concluded, the Scribe was about to rise and 
respond, but a slight motion from Her Majesty apprized 
him that she preferred to reply in person. She acquitted 
herself grandly. Her speech was a gem (Mem. — it 
was so short). After thanking her dear friends, she 
said : 

" I can only wish that you may all have as good 
health, as complete command of all your faculties, and 
enjoy flowers and birds and all things of nature as much 



82 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

as I do at seventy-one." Here the voice trembled. 
There were not many dry eyes. The quiver ran 
through the party, and without another word the Queen 
sat slowly down. I was very, very proud of that 
seventy-year old (I am often that), and deeply moved, 
as she was, by this touching evidence of the regard of 
the coaching-party for her. 

This incident led to some funny stories about pres- 
entation speeches. Upon a recent occasion, not far 
from Paisley, Aggie told us, a worthy deacon had been 
selected to present a robe to the minister. The church 
was crowded, and the recipient stood expectantly at the 
foot of the pulpit, surrounded by the members of his 
family. Amid breathless silence the committee entered 
and marched up the aisle, headed by the deacon bearing 
the gift in his extended arms. On reaching the pulpit 
a stand was made, but never a word came from the 
deacon, down whose brow the perspiration rolled in 
great drops. He was in a daze, but a touch from one 
of the committee brought him back to something like a 
realizing sense of his position, and he stammered out, as 
he handed the robe to the minister: 

" Mr. Broon, 
Here's the goon." 

You need not laugh. It is not likely that you could 
make as good a speech, which, I'll wager, is far better 
than the one over which he had spent sleepless nights, 



Si. Georges Chapel. 83 

but which providentially left him at the critical mo- 
ment. 

Windsor, seen from any direction at a distance, is 
par excellence the castle — a truly royal residence ; but, 
seen closely, it loses the grand and sinks into something 
of prettiness. It is no longer commanding, and is in- 
significant in comparison with the true castles of the 
North, the surroundings of which are in keeping with 
the idea of a stronghold, and take you at once to the 
times of the chieftain and his armed men. There is noth- 
ing of this at Windsor, and the glamour disappears when 
you begin to analyze. Royalty's famous abode should 
be looked at, as royalty itself should be — at a safe dis- 
tance. 

Service at St. George's Chapel will not soon be for- 
gotten by our party. The stalls of the Knights of the 
Garter, over the canopies of which hang their swords 
and mantles surmounted by their crests and armorial 
bearings, carry one far back into the days of chivalry. 
One stall arrested and held my attention — that of the 
Earl of Beaconsfield. When I was not gazing at Glad- 
stone's face, I was moralizing upon the last Knight of 
the Garter, whose flag still floats above the stall. Dis- 
raeli won the blue ribbon about as worthily as most men, 
and by much the same means — he flattered the monarch. 
But there is this to be said of him : he had brains and 
made himself. 

What a commentary upon pride of birth, the flag of 



84 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

the poor literary adventurer floating beside that of my 
lord duke's ! It pleased me much to see it. How that 
man must have chuckled as he bowed his way among 
his dupes, from Her Majesty to Salisbury, and passed 
the radical extension of the suffrage that doomed he- 
reditary privilege to speedy extinction. But where will 
imperialism get such another leader, after all? It has 
not found him yet. 

"What is that up there?" asked one of our party. 
" The royal box, miss." Were we really at the opera, 
then ? A royal box in a church for the worship of God ! 
Did you ever hear anything like that ! There is a royal 
staircase, too. Why not ? You would not have royalty 
on an equality with us, would you, even if we are all 
alike miserable sinners and engaged in the worship of 
that God who is no respecter of persons. 

" Well, I think this is awful," said one of the party. 
" I don't believe the good Queen would go to church 
in this way, if she only thought of it. Our President 
and family have their pew just like the rest of us." 
Our English members were equally surprised that the 
American should see anything shocking in the practice, 
and the ladies fought out the matter between them- 
selves ; the Americans insisting that the Queen should 
attend worship as other poor sinners do, since all are 
equal in God's eyes ; and the English saying little, but 
evidently harboring the idea that even in heaven spe- 
cial accommodations would probably be found reserved 



Royal Etiquette. 85 

for royalty, with maybe a special staircase to ascend by. 
Early education and inherited tendencies account for 
much. 

The staircase question led to the story that the 
Marquis of Lome was not allowed to enter some per- 
formance by the same stair with his wife. The Ameri- 
can was up at this. " If I had a husband, and he 
couldn't come with me, I wouldn't go." This made an 
end of the discussion, for the English young lady's eyes 
told plainly of her secret vow that wherever she 

went must go too. All were agreed on this point ; 

but on the general question it was a drawn battle, the 
one side declaring that if they were men they would 
not have a princess for a wife under any circumstances, 
and the other insisting that, if they were princesses, they 
would not have anybody but a prince for a husband. 

We were honored while here by the presence of Mr. 
Sidney G. Thomas and his sister, who came down from 
London and spent the day with us. Mr. Thomas is the 
young chemist, who, in conjunction with his cousin 
Mr. Gilchrist, would not accept the dictum of the au- 
thorities that phosphorus, that fiend of steel manu- 
facturers, cannot be expelled from iron ores at a high 
temperature. They set to work over a small toy pot, 
which deserves to rank with Watt's tea-kettle, to see 
whether the scientific world had not blundered. Let 
me premise that the presence of phosphorus in pig 
iron to the extent of more than about one tenth of one 



86 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

per cent, is fatal to the production of good steel by the 
Bessemer or open hearth processes. Do what you will, 
this troublesome substance persists in remaining with 
the iron. If there be phosphorus in the iron-stone you 
smelt, every atom of it will be found in the resulting 
iron ; and if there be any in the limestone, or the coke 
or coal used, every atom of it also will find its way into 
the iron. 

It is essential, therefore, that iron-stone should be 
found practically free from phosphorus ; but unfortu- 
nately such ore is scarce, and therefore expensive. The 
great iron-stone deposits of England are full of the 
enemy; so are those of America; hence, both countries 
depend largely upon ores which have to be transported 
from Spain and other countries. One authority esti- 
mates that if all the high phosphorus ores in Britain 
could be made as valuable as those free from the ob- 
jectionable ingredient, the saving per annum would go 
far to pay the interest upon the national debt. Many 
have been the attempts to devise some tempting bait to 
coax this fiend to forego his strange affinity for iron, 
and unite with some other element ; but no, his satanic 
majesty would cling to the metal. 

Messrs. Thomas and Gilchrist, in studying some 
highly creditable experiments made by my friend 
Lothian Bell, Esq. (for he was upon the right track), 
discovered an oversight which seemed to qualify the 
results which he reached, and to render his experiments 



Iron and Phosphorus. 87 

inconclusive. It was possible, they thought, that his 
failure might have resulted from the fiend not being 
kept out when he was out. So they went quietly to 
work with their toy pot, and Eureka ! Their charm had 
not only exorcised the fiend, but they had discovered 
how to lead him away from the molten metal into the 
refuse and shut the door on him there. Here was a 
triumph indeed ! I fancy they neither ate nor slept till 
repeated experiments proved that the true charm had 
been found at last. 

Mr. E. Windsor Richards, the broad manager of the 
largest manufactory of iron and steel in the world, was 
soon acquainted by them with the discovery. He tried it 
upon a large scale, and announced the end of the reign 
of King Phosphorus ; but he dies hard. This was some 
years ago, for I read the good news a few minutes after 
I had landed at Naples from the East, on my way 
round the world in the year 1879. Many obstacles had 
yet to be surmounted, but now every ton of steel man- 
ufactured at Mr. Richards's great works is made from 
iron stone which a few years ago was counted worth- 
less for steel. Enough iron stone can be had for 
three dollars to make a ton of pig iron suitable 
for steel rails. The same amount of low phos- 
phorus stone at Pittsburgh cost last year sixteen 
dollars, and yet there are intelligent people who do 
not understand why we cannot make rails as cheap as 
the English. 



88 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

I wonder if I could explain to the general reader 
how Messrs. Thomas and Gilchrist succeeded. It al- 
ways seems to me like a fairy tale — I will try. In mak- 
ing steel, ten tons of molten pig iron is run into a big 
pot called a converter, and hundreds of jets of air are 
blown up through the mass to burn out the silica and 
carbon, and finally to make it steel. Now, phospho- 
rus has a greater affinity for lime than for iron when it 
reaches a certain temperature, and when the air blast 
brings the mass to the required heat, the million parti- 
cles of phosphorus, like so many tiny ants disturbed, 
run hither and thither, quite ready to leave the iron 
for the lime. These clever young men first put a lot 
of lime in the bottom of the pot as a bait, and into this 
fly the ants, perfectly delighted with their new home. 
The lime and slag float to the top and are drawn off — 
but mark you, let the temperature fall and the new 
home gets too cold to suit these salamanders, although 
the temperature may be over 2,000 degrees, hot enough 
to melt a bar of steel in a moment if thrown into the 
pot. No, they must have 2,500 degrees in the lime 
or they will rush back to the metal. 

But here lay a difficulty : 2,500 degrees is so very hot 
that no ordinary pot lining will stand it, and of course 
the iron pot itself will not last a moment. If ganister 
or fire brick is used it just crumbles away, and besides 
this, the plaguey particles of phosphorus will rush into 
it and tear it all to pieces. The great point is to get a 



A Modern Moses. 89 

basic lining, that is, one free from silica. This has at 
last been accomplished, and now the basic process is 
destined to revolutionize the manufacture of steel, for 
out of the poorest ores, and even out of puddle cinder, 
steel or iron much purer than any now made for rails 
or bridges can be obtained, and the two young chemists, 
patentees of the Thomas-Gilchrist process, take their 
rank in the domain of metallurgy with Cort, Nelson, 
Bessemer and Siemens. These young men have done 
more for England's greatness than all her kings and 
queens and aristocracy put together. 

It was this pale Gladstonian-looking youth we had 
with us for the day and for our Sunday evening dinner 
at Windsor. He wears no title — he is too sound a 
Radical, and too sensible a man to change the name 
his honored father gave him — but nevertheless we felt 
we had one of the great men of our generation as our 
guest. If it be true, as it is, that he who causes two 
blades of grass to grow where but one grew before is a 
benefactor to the race, what is the magician who takes 
from the bowels of the earth a ton of dross, and trans- 
forms it into steel before our eyes — strikes with his 
enchanted wand a hundred mines of worthless stone 
and turns it into gold, as the prophet struck the dry 
rock and called water forth ? The age of real miracles 
is not over, you see, it has only begun, and Thomas 
is our modern Moses ; his miracle seems as much 
greater than that of his prototype as the nineteenth 



90 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

century is advanced beyond that of the Jewish dispen- 
sation. 

Monday was another thoroughly English day. The 
silver Thames, that glistened in the sun, was enlivened 
by many stately swans. The castle towered in all its 
majesty, vivified by the meteor flag which fluttered in 
the breeze. The grounds of Eton were crowded with 
nice-looking English boys as we passed. Many of us 
walked down the steep hill and far into the country in 
advance of the coach, and felt once more that a fine 
day in the south of England was perfection indeed. 
The sun here reminds one of the cup that cheers, but 
does not inebriate : its rays cheer, but never scorch. 
You could not tell whether, if there were to be any 
change, you would prefer it to be a shade cooler or a 
shade warmer. 

The swans of Windsor are an institution almost as 
old as the castle itself, for they are mentioned in rec- 
ords more than five hundred years ago. The swan is 
indeed a royal bird, and it is said that no subject can 
own them when at large in a public river except by 
special grant from the crown. Such a grant is accom- 
panied by a swan-mark for each game of swans — the 
proper term, mark you, for a collection of the noble 
birds. You may say a flock of geese but not of swans ; 
a game of swans, please, if you would " speak by the 
card." The corporation of Windsor has possessed the 
right of keeping swans in the Thames almost from 



Stoke Pogis. 91 

time immemorial. Formerly the king's swanherd made 
an annual expedition up the river to mark them. He 
and his assistants chased the poor frightened birds in 
boats, caught them roughly with long hooks, with little 
deference to their beautiful plumage, and marked them 
by cutting one or more nicks in the upper mandible of 
their beaks. This expedition, called swan-upping (cor- 
rupted into swan-hopping), is still made by the deputies 
of the Dyers' and Vintners' companies, now the principal 
swan owners on the Thames, the mark of the former 
being one nick and of the latter two nicks on the bill. 

Stoke Pogis is a few miles out of our direct road, but 
who would miss that, even were the detour double 
what the ordnance survey makes it ? Besides, had not 
a dear friend, a stay-at-home, told us that one of the 
happiest days of her life was that spent in making a 
pilgrimage to the shrine of the poet from this very 
Windsor ? Gray's was the first shrine at which we 
stopped to worship, and the beauty, the stillness, the 
peace of that low, quaint, ivy-covered church, and its 
old-fashioned graveyard, sank into our hearts. Surely 
no one could revive memories more sweetly English 
than he who gave us the Elegy. Some lines, and even 
verses of that gem, will endure, it may safely be pre- 
dicted, as long as anything English does, and that is 
saying much. We found just such a churchyard as 
seemed suited to the ode. Gray is fortunate in his 
resting-place. Earth has no prettier, calmer spot to 



92 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

give her child than this. It is the very ideal God's acre. 
The little church, too, is perfect. How fine is Gray's 
inscription upon his mother's tomb ! I avoid ceme- 
teries whenever possible, but this seemed more like a 
place where one revisits those he has once known than 
that where, alas ! we must mourn those lost forever. 
Gray's voice — the voice of one that is still, even the 
touch of the vanished hand, these seemed to be found 
there, for after our visit the poet was closer to me than 
he had ever been before. It is not thus with such as 
we have known and loved in the flesh — their graves let 
us silently avoid. He whom you seek is not here ; but 
the great dead, whom we have known only through 
their souls, do come closer to us as we stand over their 
graves. The flesh we have known has become spiritual- 
ized ; the spirits we have known become in a measure 
materialized, and I felt I had a firmer hold upon Gray 
from having stood over his dust. 

Here is the inscription he put upon his mother's 

grave : 

" Dorothy Gray. 

The careful, tender mother of many children, one of whom alone 

had the misfortune to survive her." 

The touch in the last words, "the misfortune to 
survive her ! " — Carlyle's words upon his wife's tomb 
recur to me : 

" And he feels that the light of his life has gone out." 

These were men wailing for women. I cannot be- 



Grays Tomb. 93 

lieve but that there are many women who would pre- 
fer to share the fate of men who die. There is such 
love on earth. Sujatas are not confined to India. As 
she says : 

" But if Death called Senani, I should mount 
The pile and lay that dear head in my lap, 
My daily way, rejoicing when the torch 
Lit the quick flame and rolled the choking smoke. 
For it is written, if an Indian wife 
Die so, her love shall give her husband's soul 
For every hair upon her head, a crore 
Of years in Swerza." 

I think I know women who would esteem it a mercy 
to be allowed to pass away with kirn, if the Eternal had 
not set his " canon 'gainst self-slaughter." This prohi- 
bition the Indian wots not of, but mounts the pile be- 
lieving as thoroughly as Abraham did when he placed 
Isaac on the altar, that God wills it so. They were 
equally mistaken ; and this suggests that we may all be 
very much surprised when we come to understand 
rightly, how very seldom the unknown requires any 
sacrifice of what is pleasing to us in this present world 
of his. It seems to me it is not God but men who are 
disposed to make the path so very thorny. 
Upon Gray's own tomb there is inscribed : 
" One morn I missed him on the accustomed hill, 
Along the heath, and near his favorite tree ; 
Another came, nor yet beside the rill, 
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he." 



94 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

One perfect gem outweighs a thousand mediocre per- 
formances and makes its creator immortal. The world 
has not a second Gray's Elegy among all its treasures. 
Nor is it likely to have. We found you still in your 
accustomed place. 

The manor house of Stoke Pogis, which took its 
name from a marriage, away back in the 13th cent- 
ury, between a member of the Pogis family and an 
heiress, Amiciade Stoke, furnished the subject of Gray's 
" Long Story," a poem known now only to the curious 
student of English literature. How fortunate for the 
world that the poet did not let his reputation rest 
upon it ! 

The old house, built in the time of good Queen 
Bess on an older foundation, is still more noted as the 
home of Sir Edward Coke, the famous Lord Chief Jus- 
tice and the rival of Bacon. In 1601 Coke, who had 
married three years before a wealthy young widow, 
Lady Hatton of Hatton House, the daughter of Lord 
Burleigh, entertained the Virgin Queen at Stoke 
Pogis in a manner befitting the royal dignity and the 
length of his own purse. Among other presents which 
her Majesty graciously deigned to accept at the hands 
of her subject on the occasion was jewelry valued at 
£1,000, a large sum in those days. 

Coke's marriage did not turn out very happily. He 
was old enough to be his wife's father, and she always 
affected for him the utmost contempt, even forbidding 



Chief Justice Coke. 95 

him to enter her house in London except by the back 
door. The poor man bore his hen-pecking in silence 
for many years, but at last she went one step too far. 
During his absence in London she packed up and re- 
moved from Stoke to one of her own houses his plate 
and other valuables. The outraged husband forcibly 
entered her house and reclaimed his property, taking, 
as shesaid, some of hers also. This led to legal pro- 
ceedings, in which she, through the aid of Bacon, got 
the better of him, and a reconciliation took place. 

The next year the broil took another phase. Lady 
Hatton — she always refused to take Coke's name — had 
borne him a daughter, who was the heiress of her 
mother's estates as well as of Coke's wealth. Her hand 
had been sought by Sir John Villiers, but as he was 
poor his suit had been rejected. A turn came in the 
tide. Coke, shorn of most of his honors, was in disgrace, 
and the Duke of Buckingham, Sir John's brother, was 
King James's favorite and the dispenser of immense 
patronage. Coke, with the object of winning back the 
royal favor and of humbling Bacon, his great enemy, 
now determined to ally himself with the rising house, 
and offered his daughter to Villiers. Lady Hatton, who 
had not been consulted in the matter, refused her con- 
sent, ran away with her daughter, and concealed her 
in the house of a kinsman. But Coke found out her 
hiding place, and with a dozen stout fellows broke into 
the house and seized his daughter. Lady Hatton, 



96 Fonr-in-Hand in Britain. 

aided by Bacon, carried her case to the privy council 
and Coke was proceeded against in the Star Chamber. 
But with Buckingham behind him the old lawyer proved 
too strong for Bacon this time, and succeeded in throw- 
ing his wife into prison and in forcing her to consent to 
the match. 

The marriage took place at Hampton Court in the 
presence of the king, the queen, and the most distin- 
guished of the nobility, and Frances became Lady Vil- 
liers. Stoke Pogis was settled on the bridegroom, who 
was shortly raised to the peerage as Viscount Purbeck 
and Baron Villiers, of Stoke Pogis, and Coke flattered 
himself that his troubles had at last ended. But the 
marriage resulted like many another ill-assorted union. 
Lady Villiers, after driving her husband nearly to the 
verge of distraction, eloped with Sir Robert Howard, 
and lived for many years an eventful and scandalous 
life, which finally brought its reward in her degradation, 
imprisonment, and death. 

If the course of true love never runs smooth, it may 
be taken for granted that the stream is even more tem- 
pestuous when marriage is made a matter of family 
alliance with no love at all in the matter. Our young 
ladies were unanimous upon this point, and one and all 
declared their firm resolve and readiness to trust to 
" true love " with all its risks. The Queen Dowager, 
being appealed to by them for support, settled the mat- 
ter by reciting the lines of an old Scotch song : 



Royal Visits. 97 

" Lassie tak the man ye loe 
Whate'er ye're minnie say, 
Though ye sud mak ye're bridal bed 
Amang pea strae." 

So ta-ta all worldly considerations and family alli- 
ances, and the rest of it, say the wild romps of the Gay 
Charioteers. 

Several years after the death of Coke, Stoke Pogis 
was for a short time the place of confinement of Charles 
L, who could see from its windows the towers of Wind- 
sor Castle, which he was never again to enter except as 
a headless corpse. On the death of Viscount Purbeck, 
who resided in the manor house after Coke's decease, 
Stoke Pogis passed by purchase into the hands of the 
Gayer family. When Charles II. came to his own again 
the then possessor of the mansion was knighted, and 
became so devoted in his affection for the Stuarts that 
when in after time King William desired to visit Stoke 
Pogis to see a place so rich in historical associations, the 
old knight would not listen to it. In vain did his wife 
intercede : he declared that the usurper should not cross 
his threshold, and he kept his word. So it came to be 
said that Stoke Pogis had sumptuously entertained one 
sovereign, been the prison of another, and refused ad- 
mission to a third. 

We were told that quite recently Queen Victoria 
had visited it in person, with a view to its purchase for 
her daughter, and while walking through its magnifi- 
7 



98 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

cent suite of rooms she expressed the wish that her own 
Windsor had their equal. She finally decided to pur- 
chase Claremont, the price demanded for Stoke, it is 
said, having been too great to square with her majesty's 
estimate of value. It is in the market to-day. If any of 
our bonanza kings want one of the stately homes of 
England, rich in historical associations and " looking 
antiquity," here is his chance. 

In still later times the old place came into posses- 
sion of the Penn family, the heirs of our William Penn 
of Pennsylvania, and it was by one of them, John Penn, 
that the cenotaph to Gray was erected — for the poet, it 
will be remembered, was laid in his mother's tomb. 
This same Penn pulled down much of the old house 
and rebuilt is as it is to-day. 

Our luncheon was to be upon the banks of the 
Thames to-day, the Old Swan Inn, where the stone 
bridge crosses the stream, being our base of supplies ; 
but ere this was reached what a lovely picture was ours 
between Stoke Pogis and the Swan ! All that has been 
sung or written about the valley of the Thames is found 
to be more than deserved. The silver stream flows 
gently through the valley, the fertile land rises gradu- 
ally on both sides, enabling us to get extensive views 
from the top of the coach. Our road lies over tolerably 
high ground some distance from the river. Such per- 
fect quiet, homelike, luxuriant beauty is to be seen 
nowhere but in England. It is not possible for the ele- 



Skylarks. 99 

merits to be combined to produce a more pleasing pict- 
ure ; and now, after seeing all else between Brighton 
and Inverness that lay upon our line, we return to the 
region of Streatley and Maple Durham, and award them 
the palm as the finest thoroughly English landscape. 

We say to the valley of the Thames what the East- 
ern poet said to the Vale of Cashmere, which is not 
half so pretty : 

" If there be a paradise upon earth, 
It is here, it is here." 

The Old Swan proved to be, both in structure and 
location, a fit component part of the sylvan scene 
around. There ran the Thames in limpid purity, a 
picturesque stone bridge overhanging it, and the road- 
side inn within a few yards of the grassy bank. 

The rugs were laid under a chestnut tree, and our 
first picnic luncheon spread on the buttercups and 
daisies. Swallows skimmed the water, bees hummed 
above us — but stop ! what's that, and where ? Our 
first skylark singing at heaven's gate ! All who heard 
this never-to-be-forgotten song for the first time were 
up and on their feet in an instant ; but the tiny song- 
ster which was then filling the azure vault with music 
was nowhere to be seen. It's worth an Atlantic voyage 
to hear a skylark for the first time. Even luncheon was 
neglected a while, hungry as we were, that we might 
if possible catch a glimpse of the warbler. The flood 



ioo Four -in-Hand in Britain. 

of song poured forth as we stood wrapt awaiting the 
descent of the messenger from heaven. At last a small ' 
black speck came into sight. He is so little to see — so 
great to hear ! 

I know several fine things about the famous song- 
ster: 

" In the golden lightning 

Of the sunken sun, 
O'er which clouds are bright'ning, 
Thou dost float and run, 
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun." 

An " unbodied joy ! " that's a hit, surely ! 

Here is Browning on the thrush, which I think 
should be to the lark : 

" He sings each song twice over, 
Lest you should think he never could recapture 
The first fine careless rapture." 

The third is just thrown in by the prodigal hand of 
genius in a poem not to a lark but to a daisy : 

'* Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, 
The bonnie lark, companion meet, 
Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet, 

Wi* speckl'd breast, 
When upward springing, blithe, to greet 
The purpling east." 

How fine is Wordsworth's well known tribute : 

" Type of the wise, who soar but never roam, 
True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home ! " 



Reading Abbey. 101 

And now I remember Shakespeare has his say too 
about the lark — what is it in England he has not his 
say about ? or in all the world for that matter ; and how 
much and how many things has he rendered it the high- 
est wisdom for men to keep silent about after he has 
said his say, holding their peace forever. 

A row upon the silver Thames after luncheon, and 
we are off again for Reading, where we are to rest over 
night at the Queen's. Reading has a pretty, new park 
and interesting ruins within its boundaries which we 
visited before dinner. There are but few traces left of 
the once famous Abbey, founded early in the twelfth 
century by Henry I. In the height of its prosperity 
more than two hundred monks fattened at its hospitable 
board, and its mitred abbot sat as a peer in Parlia- 
ment. It was noted, too, as a centre of learning, but the 
jolly brethren must have sadly degenerated in this 
respect, if we can believe the report of the royal com- 
missioners in temp. Henry VIII., for Hugh Cook, the 
last abbot, who was hanged and quartered near his own 
door in 1539, is described as a "stubborn monk, abso- 
lutely without learning." But, of course, all who believe 
that the much-married Henry was a monster of iniquity 
will put no faith in the reports of his minions, and will 
continue to believe that Abbot Hugh was a holy man 
of God, whose shortcomings in the small matters of 
orthography and syntax were more than made up 
by his proficiency in vigils, fastings, and prayers. That 



102 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

he was the " right man in the right place " is proven by 
the inventory of the relics found in his keeping by the 
aforesaid minions at the time of the suppression of the 
monastery. Among these sacred objects were " twoo 
peces of the holye crosse," " Saynt James hande," " a 
bone of Marye Magdelene," " a pece of Saynt Pancrat' 
arme," and " a bone of Saynt Edwarde the martyr is 
arme." Can it be possible that this saintly man, who 
so zealously guarded such treasures to the last moment 
of his life, should still be allowed to suffer under the 
imputation of stubbornness and ignorance ! He mightn't 
just have been " one of those literary fellers," but it is 
very clear he had a firm grasp of the " fundamentals " of 
the faith. What is learning compared to a " bone of 
Saynt Edwarde " as a means of keeping the sheep in the 
true fold ! The old abbot knew his business better than 
Henry's commissioners. The tooth of Buddha, which I 
went to see when in Ceylon, draws crowds from all parts 
of the island, and excites more piety than the tom- 
tom, or the incantations of the most learned priest. 
Truly there's nothing like a relic as a means of grace. 

A pretty lawn in the rear of our hotel gave us an 
opportunity for a game of lawn tennis in the twilight 
after dinner, and in the morning we were off for Ox- 
ford. The editorial in the Reading paper that morning 
upon emigration struck me as going to the root of the 
matter. Here is the concluding paragraph : 

" Already the expanding and prospering industries 



Causes of Emigration. 103 

of the New World are throwing an ominous shadow 
across the Old World and are affecting some of its hab- 
its and practices. But over and above and beyond all 
these, the free thought, the liberty of action, the calm 
independence and the sense of the dignity of man as 
man, and the perfect equality of all before the law and 
in the eye of the constitution now existing in America, 
are developing a race of men who, through correspond- 
ence with home relations, the intercourse of free travel, 
the transaction of business, and the free, outspoken 
language of the press, are gradually disintegrating the 
yet strong conservative forces of European society, and 
thus preparing the downfall of the monarchical, aristo- 
cratic, military, and ecclesiastic systems which shackle 
and strangle the people of the Old World. These 
thoughts seem to me to convey the meaning of the 
great exodus now going on, and he is a wise statesman 
who reads the lesson aright." 

There's a man after my own heart. He grasps the 
subject. 

The editor tells one of the several causes of the 
exodus which is embracing many of the most valuable 
citizens of the old lands where class distinctions still 
linger. Man longs not only to be free but to be equal, 
if he has much manhood in him ; and that America is 
the home for such men, numbers of the best are fast 
finding out. But England will soon march forward ; 
she is not going to rest behind very long. There will 



104 Foiir-in-Hand in Britain. 

soon be no superior political advantages here for the 
masses, nor educational ones either. England is at 
work in earnest, and what she does, she does well. I 
prophecy that young England will give young America 
a hard race for supremacy. 

Some of us walked ahead of the coach for several 
miles, and I had a chat with a man whom we met. He 
was a rough carpenter and his wages were sixteen shil- 
lings per week ($4). A laborer gets eleven shillings 
(not $2.75), but some "good masters" pay thirteen to 
fourteen shillings ($3.25 to $3.50), and give their men 
four or five pounds of beef at Christmas. Food is bacon 
and tea, which are cheap, but no beef. Men's wages 
have not advanced much for many years (I should think 
not !), but women's have. An ordinary woman for field 
work can get one shilling per day (24 cents) ; a short 
time ago ninepence (18 cents) was the highest amount 
paid. Is it not cheering to find poor women getting an 
advance ? But think what their condition still is, when 
one shilling per day is considered good pay ! I asked 
whether employers did not board the workers in addition 
to paying these wages, but he assured me they did not. 
This is southern England and these are agricultural 
laborers, but the wages seem distressingly low even as 
compared with British wages in general. The new sys- 
tem of education and the coming extension of the suf- 
frage to the counties will soon work a change among 
these poor people. They will not rest content crowd- 



Oxford. 105 

ing each other down thus to a pittance when they can 
read and write and vote. Thank fortune for this. 

Our ladies were unusually gay in their decorations 
to-day, with bunches of wild flowers on their breasts 
and hats crowned with poppies and roses. They decked 
the Queen Dowager out until she looked as if ready to 
play Ophelia. Their smiles too were as pretty as their 
flowers. What an embodied joy bright, happy ladies are 
under all conditions, and how absolutely essential for a 
coaching party ! Was it not Johnson's idea of happi- 
ness to drive in a gig with a pretty woman ? He wasn't 
much of a muff ! If anything could have kept him in 
good humor, this would have done it. If he could have 
been on top of a coach with a bevy of them, not even 
he could have said a rude thing. 

Oxford was reached before the sun went down. Its 
towers were seen for miles — Magdalen, Baliol, Christ 
Church, and other familiar names. We crossed the 
pretty little Isis, marvelling at every step, and drove up 
the High Street to the Clarendon. 

The next day was to be Commencement, and only a 
few rooms were to be had in the hotel, but we were dis- 
tributed very comfortably among houses in the neigh- 
borhood. Several hours before dinner were delightfully 
spent in a grand round of the colleges. We peeped into 
the great quads, walked the cloisters, and got into all 
kinds of queer old-fashioned places. But the stroll along 
the Isis, and past Magdalen Tower, and up the long 



io6 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

walk — that was the grand finish ! We pardon Wolsey 
his greed of getting, he was so princely in giving. To 
the man who did so much for Oxford much may be for- 
given. 



Oxford, June 21. 

This morning was devoted to visiting the principal 
colleges more in detail, and also to the ascent of the 
tower of the Sheldonian Theatre, which no one should 
ever miss doing. Below us lay the city of palaces, for 
such it seems, palaces of the right kind too — not for idle 
kings or princes to riot in, and corrupt society by their 
bad example, but for those who " scorn delights and live 
laborious days." 

Our Cambridge member, Mr. B., tells us it does not 
cost more than ^200 ($1,000) per annum for a student 
here. This seems very cheap. The tariff which we saw 
in one of the halls gave us a laugh : 

" Commons. 
Mutton, long, \\d. 
do. short, gd. 
do. half, Jd." 

The long and the half we could understand, but how 
could they manage the short ? This must be a kind of 
medium portion for fellows whose appetites are only 
so-so. You see how fine things are cut even in Oxford. 
Our party thought if the students were coaching there 
would be little occasion for them to know anything of 



Martyrs. 107 

either short or half. At least we were all in for long 
commons at eleven pence. 

We drove past the martyrs' memorial, Latimer and 
Ridley's. Cranmer does not deserve to be named with 
them. A visit to such a monument always does me 
good, for it enables me to say to those who doubt the 
real advancement of mankind : Now look at this, and 
think for what these grand men were burnt ! Is it con- 
ceivable that good, sterling men shall ever again be 
called upon in England to die for opinion's sake ! That 
Cranmer wrote and advocated the right and necessity 
of putting to death those who differed from him, and 
therefore that he met the fate he considered it right to 
mete to others, shows what all parties held in those 
dark days. I claim that the world has made a distinct 
and permanent advance in this department which in no 
revolving circle of human affairs is ever to be lost. The 
persecution of the Rev. Mr. Green, of Professor Robert- 
son Smith, and of Bishop Colenso in the present day 
proves, no doubt, that there is much yet to be done ere 
we can be very proud of our progress ; but these are the 
worst of to-day's persecutions, and could occur only in 
England and Scotland. There is a long gap between 
them and burning at the stake ! Grand old Latimer 
was prophetic when he called out from amid the fag- 
gots to his colleague : " Be of good comfort and play 
the man ; we shall this day light such a candle by God's 
grace as I trust shall never be put out ! " 



108 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

I think it certain that the candle will never again be 
put out. The bigots of to-day can annoy only in 
Britain. In other English-speaking communities even 
that power has passed away, and persecution for opin- 
ion's sake is unknown. " A man may say the thing he 
will " — there is a further and a higher stage yet to be 
reached when a man will consider it a man's part to 
have an opinion upon all matters and say what he thinks 
boldly, concealing nothing. 

We left Oxford with just a sprinkle of rain falling, 
but we had scarcely got fairly out of the city when it 
ceased and left the charming landscape lovelier than 
ever. Banbury Cross was our destination, and on our 
route lay magnificent Blenheim, the estate given by the 
nation to the Duke of Marlborough. See what the 
nations do for the most successful murderers of their 
fellows ! and how insignificant have ever been the re- 
wards of those who preserve, improve, or discover — for 
a Marlborough or a Wellington a fortune, for a Howard 
or a Wilberforce a pittance. It is only in heathen China 
that the statesman, the man of letters, heads the list. 
No military officer, however successful as a destroyer, 
can ever reach the highest rank there, for with them the 
victories of peace are more renowned than those of war ; 
that is reserved for the men who know — the Gladstones 
and the Disraelis, the Darwins and the Spencers, the 
Arnolds and the Ruskins. It is only in civilized coun- 
tries that the first honors are given to butchers. 



Blenheim. 109 

Blenheim is superb, grand, and broad enough to sat- 
isfy princely tastes. And that noble library ! As we 
walked through it we felt subdued, as if in the presence 
of the gods of ages past, for a worthy collection of great 
books ever breathes forth the influence of kings dead 
yet present, of 

" Those dead but sceptred sovereigns 
Whose spirits still rule us from their urns." 

And to think that this library, in whose treasures we 
revelled, reverently taking one old tome after another in 
our hands, has since then been sold by auction ! De- 
generate wretch ! but one descended from Marlborough 
can scarcely be called degenerate. You may not even 
be responsible for what seems like family dishonor; 
some previous heir may have rendered the sale neces- 
sary ; but the dispersion of such treasures as these must 
surely open the eyes of good men in England to the 
folly of maintaining hereditary rank and privilege. Per- 
haps, however, the noble owner had no more use for his 
books than the lord whose library Burns was privileged 
to see, which showed no evidences of usage. The bard 
wrote in a volume of Shakespeare he took up : 

" Through and through the inspired leaves, 
Ye maggots, make your windings ; 
But oh ! respect his lordship's taste 
And spare his golden bindings." 

With many notable exceptions, the aristocracy of 
Britain took its rise from bad men who did the dirty 



1 10 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

work of miserable kings, and from women who were 
even worse than their lords. It seems hastening to an 
end in a manner strictly in accordance with its birth. 
Even Englishmen will soon become satisfied that no 
man should be born to honors, but that these should be 
reserved for those who merit them. But what kind of 
fruit could be expected from the tree of privilege ? Its 
roots lie in injustice, and not the least of its evils are 
those inflicted upon such as are born under its shadow. 
The young peer who succeeds in making somebody of 
himself does so in spite of a vicious system, and is en- 
titled to infinite praise ; but though our race is slow to 
learn, the people hear a wee bird singing these stirring 
days, and they begin to like the song. The days of 
rank are numbered. 



Banbury, June 22. 
Banbury Cross was reached about five o'clock, and 
few of us were so far away in years or feeling from the 
days of childhood as not to remember the nursery 
rhyme which was repeated as we came in sight of the 
famous Cross. We expected to see a time-worn relic of 
days long past, and I verily believe that some of us 
hoped for a glimpse of the old lady on the white horse, 
with " rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes." Im- 
agine our disappointment, then, when we saw an elabo- 
rate Gothic structure, looking as new and modern as if 
it had received its finishing touches but yesterday. And 



Banbury Cross. in 

so indeed it had, for it was recently erected by public 
subscription. The charm was gone. 

I like new political institutions for my native land, 
but prefer the old historical structures ; and as we drove 
past this spick-and-span imitation of antiquity I felt like 
criticising the good people of Banbury for the sacrilege 
I supposed they had committed in thus supplanting the 
ancient landmark which had made their town known 
the wide world over. I could not help entertaining a 
hope, too, that the original " goodly Crosse with many 
degrees about it," had been put away in some museum 
or other safe place where it could receive the homage 
of all devoted lovers of Mother Goose. Alas ! inquiry 
developed the fact that the Puritanic besom of destruc- 
tion, which demolished so many images and other orna- 
ments in the churches in good Queen Bess's time, swept 
away Banbury Cross as early as 1602, and that not a 
piece of it remains to tell of its ancient glory. 

Banbury was early noted as a stronghold of Puritan- 
ism, and was famous, as Fuller says, for " zeale, cheese 
and cakes." The zeal and the cheese are not now as 
strong as they were, but Banbury cakes are still in as 
high repute as ever, and are largely made and exported. 
They are probably the same now as in the days of Ben 
Jonson, who tells of them in " Bartholomew Fair," — a 
kind of miniature mince pie, generally lozenge-shaped, 
consisting of a rich paste with a filling of Zante currants 
and other fruits. 



112 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Banbury has the celebrated works of my friend, Mr. 
Samuelson, M.P. ; and before dinner I walked out to see 
them, and if possible to learn something of Mr. Samuel- 
son's whereabouts. Upon returning to the hotel I 
found that he was at that moment occupying the sit- 
ting-room adjoining ours. We had an evening's talk 
and compared notes as brother manufacturers. If Eng- 
land and America are drawing more closely together 
politically, it is also true that the manufacturers of the 
two countries have nearly the same problems to settle. 
Mr. Samuelson was deep in railway discriminations and 
laboring with a parliamentary commission to effect 
changes, or rather, as he would put it, to obtain jus- 
tice. 

I gave an account of our plans, our failures, and 
our successes, of which he took note. This much I am 
bound to say for my former colleagues upon this side 
(for before I reformed I was a railway manager), that 
the manufacturers of Britain have wrongs of which we 
know nothing here, though ours are bad enough. I add 
the last sentence lest Messrs. Vanderbilt, Roberts, Cas- 
satt, and the Garretts (father and son), might receive a 
wrong impression from the previous admission ; for these 
are the gentlemen upon whom our fortunes hang. 

The evidence given before the Parliament Commis- 
sion in Britain, proves that the people there are sub- 
jected to far worse treatment at the hands of railway 
companies than we are here. American grain is trans- 



Political Economy Club. 1 1 3 

ported from Liverpool to London, for one-half the rate 
charged upon English grain from points near Liverpool 
—I give this as one instance out of hundreds. The 
defence of the railway company is that unless they 
carry the foreign article at half rates the ships will 
carry it to London direct, or that it will go by sea from 
Liverpool. I attended a meeting of the Political 
Economy Club, in London, where the question of legis- 
lative interference with railway charges was ably dis- 
cussed. The prevalent opinion seemed to be that it was 
doubtful whether the evils could be cured by legislation. 
Being called upon to state our experience here, I gave 
them an account of the unwise policy pursued by the 
Pennsylvania Railroad Company (now happily reversed) 
at Pittsburgh and its consequences ; for the great riot in 
Pittsburgh had for its real source the practice of the 
Railway Company of carrying the manufactures of the 
East, from New York and Philadelphia, through the 
city of Pittsburgh to the West for less than it would 
carry the same articles for from Pittsburgh, although 
the distance was twice as great. Many such anomalies 
as this still exist in England. 

The members seemed interested in hearing that the 
result was that the railway company finally agreed that 
in no case should the rates to and from the shorter ex- 
ceed those charged for the greater distance, and Pitts- 
burgh manufactures are now taken East and West at 
ten per cent, less than the through rates between 

8 



1 14 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Chicago and the seaboard, no matter how these may be 
forced by competition. While this rule does not ensure 
exact justice nor cover all cases, it is nevertheless a great 
step in advance and removes most of the more serious 
causes for just complaint. 

The club spoken of is a notable one. It consists of 
twenty-five members, only vacancies caused by death 
being filled by election. Admission is considered a 
great honor. It is said that every question within the 
range of practical politics upon which the club has de- 
clared its opinion, has been legislated upon within a 
short time in accordance with its decision. Every mem- 
ber is well known and must have a national reputation. 
Among those present were Sir John Lubbock, who 
learnt early in youth a rare secret, the way to learn — 
" consider the ways of the ant, and be wise" — and Mr. Faw- 
cett, the blind Postmaster-General, a man whose career 
proves, as clearly perhaps as ever was proved, the truth 
that there is no difficulty to him who wills. 

Mr. Leonard Courtney, one of the coming men, took 
a leading part in the discussion on railways ; Mr. Giffen, 
however, read the paper of the evening, which of course 
was able, although on the wrong side, as I think. He 
is the noted man of figures, whose recent article, read 
before the Statistical Society, showing the hundreds of 
millions America is soon to contain, produced so start- 
ling an effect here, as well as in Europe. Mr. Shaw Le 
Fevre, Lord Sherborne (Robert Lowe), and the father 



Satires and Epigrams. 115 

of the Corn Law Repeal movement, Mr. Villiers, and 
several others of note were present. 

I was indebted to one of the members, my friend 
Prof. Thorold E. Rogers, M.P., for the coveted oppor- 
tunity to visit this club. By the way, I wonder the 
Professor's book of Satires and Epigrams has not been 
republished in America. It is wonderfully clever, and 
the Charioteers have had many a laugh and many a 
pleasant half hour enjoying it. 

Here is a specimen, which I may be pardoned quot- 
ing, as I found upon inquiry that the hero Brown was 
no less than one of my own friends, a Dunfermline man 
too, at that, Mr. Reid, M.P. : 

" Sent to a distant land in early youth, 
Brown made his way by honor, thrift, and truth ; 
Ten years he worked and saved, then, satisfied, 
Back to his native land our merchant hied. 
A man of worth as well as wealth, he sought 
How he might wisely use the cash he'd brought : 
He clearly saw his fortune could be graced 
Only by prudence, candor, judgment, taste ; 
Assumed no airs, indulged in no pretence, 
Guided his words, his acts, by common sense ; 
Maintained his self-respect, though glad to please, 
Seemed not to aim, but won his aims with ease, 
And proved that he had learnt the highest tact, 
When no one feared and no one dared detract. 
(I don't say hate, for some men are so nice 
They cannot bear a man without a vice) ; 



n6 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Well, such a hater, with a well-bred sneer, 

(He took good care that all the room could hear) : 

Said, ' Dawdle asked me, Brown, if I could tell 

What are your shield, your arms, your motto ? ' Well, 

Brown winced, grew red, looked puzzled for a while, 

Then answered gayly with a pleasant smile, 

' My shield is or, sir, and the arms I bear, 

Three mushrooms rampant.' — Motto, 'Here we are.'" 

There are many similar good things in the book, 
so I venture to point it out to the enterprising publish- 
ers of America as something worthy of — "conveying." 

There is much discussion this morning as to the best 
route to take, there is so much to tempt us on either of 
several ways. Shall we go by Compton Verney (there 
is a pretty English name for you), Wellesbourn, and 
Hastings ? or shall we take our way through Broughton 
Castle, Tadmarton, Scoalcliffe, Compton Wynyate, and 
Oxhill? In one way Wroxton Abbey, one of the real 
genuine baronial abbeys, if one may say so, and Edge- 
hill. Surely no good Republican would miss that ! 
But on the other route we shall see the stronghold of 
Lord Saye and Sele, older yet than Wroxton, and 
Compton Wynyate, older and finer than all — "a noble 
wreck in ruinous perfection," and a third route still 
finer than either as far as scenery is concerned. Such 
is this treasure house, this crowded grand old England, 
whose every mile boasts such attractions to win our 
love. 



Wrox ton Abbey. 117 

" Look where we may, we cannot err 
In this delicious region— change of place 
Producing change of beauty — ever new." 

Every day's journey only proves to us how little of 
all there is to see we can see ; how much we miss on the 
right and on the left. One might coach upon this Island 
every summer during his whole life and yet die leaving 
more of beauty and of interest to visit than all that he 
had been able to see. When one does not know how to 
spend a summer's holiday let him try this coaching life 
and thank heaven for a new world opened to him. 

We chose the first route, and whatever the others 
might have proved we are satisfied, for it is unanimously 
decided that in Wroxton Abbey we have seen our most 
interesting structure. Though it dates only from the 
beginning of the seventeenth century, it is a grand build- 
ing and a fine example of the domestic architecture of 
the period. Its west front is a hundred and eighteen 
feet long, and its porch is an elegant specimen of the 
Italian decorated entrances of the time. Blenheim and 
Windsor are larger, but had we our choice we would 
take Wroxton in preference to either. With what in- 
terest did we wander through its quaint irregular cham- 
bers and inspect its treasures ! James I. slept in this 
bed, Charles I. in that, and George IV. in another ; this 
quilt is the work of Mary Queen of Scots — there is her 
name ; Queen Elizabeth occupied this chamber during a 
visit, and King William this. Then the genuine old 



n8 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

pictures, although in this department Blenheim stands 
unrivalled. Marlborough knew the adage that " to the 
victor belongs the spoils," and acted upon it too, for he 
had rare opportunities abroad to gather treasures. But 
for a realization of your most picturesque ideal of a great 
old English house, betake yourselves to Wroxton Abbey. 
Its little chapel, rich in very old oak carving, is in itself 
worth a journey to see. 

A pretty story is told of the visit of James I. to the 
Abbey. The wife of Sir William Pope, the owner, had 
lately presented him with a daughter, and on the King's 
arrival the babe was brought to him bearing in her little 
hand a scroll containing the following verses : 

" See this little mistres here, 
Did never sit in Peter's chaire, 
Or a triple crowne did weare ; 
And yet she is a Pope. 

" No benefice she ever sold, 
Nor did dispence with sins for gold ; 
She hardly is a sev'nnight old, 
And yet she is a Pope. 

" No King her feet did ever kisse, 
Or had from her worse look than this : 

Nor did she ever hope 

To saint one with a rope ; 

And yet she is a Pope. 
A female Pope, you'll say, a second Joan ; 
No sure — she is Pope Innocent or none." 



Edgehill. 1 1 9 

We lunched off deal tables and drank home-brewed 
ale in the tap-room of the Holcroft Inn, a queer old 
place, but we had a jolly time amid every kind of thing 
that carried us back to the England of past centuries. 
Beyond Holcroft we came suddenly upon the grandest 
and most extensive view by far that had yet rejoiced us. 
We were rolling along absorbed in deep admiration of 
the fertile land that spread out before us on both sides 
of the road, and extolling the never-ceasing peacefulness 
and quiet charm of England, when, on passing through 
a cut, a wide and varied panorama lay stretched at our 
feet. A dozen picturesque villages and hamlets were in 
sight, and by the aid of our field-glass a dozen more 
were brought within range. The spires of the churches, 
the poplars, the hedgerows, the woods, the gently undu- 
lating land apparently giving forth its luxuriant harvest 
with such ease and pleasure, all these made up such a 
picture as we could not leave. We ordered the coach to 
go on and wait at the foot of the hill until we had feasted 
ourselves with the view. We lay upon the face of the 
hill and gazed on Arcadia smiling below. Very soon 
some of the neighboring residents came, for one is never 
long without human company in crowded England ; and 
we found that we were indeed upon sacred ground. 
This was Edgehill ! As sturdy republicans we lingered 
long upon the spot, gazing on the scene of that bloody 
fight between king and people which, however, was 
almost without immediate result — for it was a drawn 



120 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

battle — but which eventually led to so much. Charles's 
army lay at Banbury, whence we had just come, that of 
the Parliament at Kineton yonder, and spread out before 
us was the plain where they met. The ground is now 
occupied by two farms called the Battle Farms, distin- 
guished as Battleton and Thistleton. Between the farm- 
houses, on the latter place, are the places where the 
slain were buried, appropriately called the Grave Fields. 
A copse of fir trees in one place is said to mark the site 
of a pit into which five hundred were thrown. 

Some of the royalist writers have tried to prove that 
Cromwell was not present at Edgehill, and one has even 
countenanced an idle tale that he witnessed the battle 
from a steeple on one of the neighboring hills, and that 
he incontinently took to his heels, or rather to his horses' 
legs, when he thought the meeting had resulted disas- 
trously to the forces of the Parliament. But Carlyle 
characterizes this story as it deserves, for Lord Nugent 
expressly mentions Cromwell's troop of dragoons as 
among those that charged at the close of the battle. 
No, no, stern old Oliver was not the man to stand aloof 
when he once had scent of a battle ; and we may be sure, 
although he was then but a captain of horse, that he did 
good service at Edgehill. 

There were good men on both sides that day, and not 
the least among them was brave Sir Jacob Astley, who 
commanded Charles's foot. He was withal a man of 
piety, for the Parliamentarians did not have a monopoly 



Warwick Castle. 121 

in that line, however much their chroniclers may claim 
it ; and I have always regarded his prayer on that mo- 
mentous Sunday morning as a model which many clergy- 
men might study with profit to themselves and to their 
congregations. " O Lord ! " said he, as he settled himself 
firmly in the saddle, " Thou knowest how busy I must 
be this day. If I forget Thee, do not Thou forget me. 
March on, boys ! " Is not that to the purpose ? 

Let such as are at their appointed work have no fear 
that they will ever be forgotten — the performance of a 
duty ranks before the offering of a prayer, any day — nay, 
is of itself the best prayer. There's plenty of time for 
lip service when we have served the Lord by hard work in 
a good cause. When people have nothing better to do 
let them pray, but don't let them be too greedy and ask 
much for themselves. 

Our route lay through Warwick and Leamington. 
The view of the castle from the bridge is, I believe, the 
best of its kind in England. " From turret to founda- 
tion stone " it is all perfect. The very entrance tells of 
the good old days. As we pass beneath the archway, 
over the drawbridge, and under the portcullis, it all 
comes back to us. 

" Up drawbridge, grooms. What, Warder, ho ! 
Let the portcullis fall ! 
To pass there was such scanty room 
The bars descending razed his plume." 

Warwick, the king-maker ! This was his castle. His 



122 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

quarrel with the king was one of our most taking recita- 
tions. The Scribe was considered heavy in this : 

" Know this, the man who injured Warwick 
Never passed uninjured yet." 

He found that out, did he not, my lord of the ragged 
staff! 

The view from the great hall looking on the river 
below is fixed in my mind. Don't miss it ; and surely 
he who will climb to the top of Guy's Tower will have 
cause for thankfulness for many a year thereafter. You 
get a look at more of England there than is generally 
possible. I sympathize with Ruskin in his rage at the 
attempt to raise funds by subscription to mend the rav- 
ages of a recent fire in the castle. A Warwick in the 
role of a Belisarius begging for an obolus ! If the king- 
maker could look upon this ! But historical names are 
now often trailed in the dust in England ; and it must 
be some consolation to him, wherever he may be, to 
know that the bearer of the title, if responsible for this, 
is no scion of the old stock. 

The legend of Guy of Warwick, accepted as an his- 
torical fact by the early writers, has been relegated to 
the garret of monkish superstition, with the ribs of the 
dun cow and other once undoubted relics ; but its ro- 
mance will always lend an interest to the old castle and 
attract the traveller to the site of the hermitage on Guy's 
Cliff where the fabled hero died and was buried. You 



Guy of Warwick. 123 

must not suppose that Guy's Tower had any connection 
with the original Guy, for the building dates only from 
the close of the fourteenth century, while the latter 
boasts an antiquity of nearly a thousand years. Indeed, 
we can place him to a dot, for the antiquary Rous is very 
precise in his statement. He says : " On the twelfth of 
June, 926, being the third year of the reign of Athelstan, 
a most terrible single combat took place between the 
champions of the kings of England and Denmark — Guy, 
Earl of Warwick, and Colebrand the Pagan, an African 
giant ; through the mercy of God the Christian under- 
took the combat, being advised thereto by an angel ; and 
the faithful servant of God and the Church fortunately 
vanquished the enemy of the whole realm of England." 
Is it not dreadful to contemplate what might have 
been the consequences if Colebrand the African had got 
the upper hand of that faithful servant of God and the 
Church ! But it was not to be. The Pagan had a lost 
fight from the start, for, though the chronicle does not 
expressly say so, it is very evident to the reflecting mind 
that Guy was backed throughout by the angel — a mean 
advantage which, but for the immensity of the stake, 
would have led any ordinary lover of fair play to side 
with the weaker party. But not so with the wily monks 
of those days. In their easy consciences the end justified 
the means, and so they glorified Guy as the champion 
of all that was good, and so sedulously trumpeted his 
fame that the Norman barons who succeeded to the 



124 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

ownership of the old Saxon stronghold saw their interest 
in adopting the victor as an ancestor. In time these 
Normans came to believe implicitly in the family tree 
with Guy at the root, just as some silly people pin their 
faith to the parchment evidences of the professional 
genealogists proving their descent from some fabulous 
hero who followed William and his crew from Normandy. 
They named their sons after Guy, called the tower his 
tower, and hung up his arms and armor in the great 
hall, while their wives and daughters worked his exploits 
in tapestry. 

These proud descendants of a fabulous ancestor re- 
mind one of the general in the " Pirates of Penzance " who 
is found weeping at the tomb in the abbey belonging to 
the property he has purchased. When it is suggested 
to him that his tears are misplaced, he replies : " Sir, 
when I bought this property I bought this abbey and 
this tomb with its contents. I do not know whose an- 
cestors these were, but I do know whose ancestors they 
are." And he falls to sobbing again, bound to have an 
ancestry of some kind, the more important the more to 
belittle himself by comparison. But the general is very 
English for all that. Tennyson's lines, 

" Trust me, Clara Vere de Vere, 
From yon blue heavens above us bent 
The grand old gardener and his wife 
Smile at the claims oflong descent," 

are well known and repeated by the school children all 



Kenilworth Castle. 125 

over the land, but the grown men and women, entirely 
free from the weakness of trying to figure out a family 
tree of respectable antiquity, will be found unexpectedly 
small in this old land. Josh Billings settled the matter 
as far as Americans are concerned, for the malady is even 
more ridiculous in the New World. " We can't boast 
old family here," says he, " the country ain't long enough, 
unless a feller has Injun in him." That is what the law- 
yers call an estoppel, I take it. 

Driving through Leamington we reached Kenilworth 
Castle for luncheon, to which we had looked forward for 
several days. Alas ! the keeper informed us that no pic- 
nic parties are admitted since the grounds have been put 
into such excellent order by the kind Earl Clarendon 
(for which thanks, good earl). But he was a man of 
some discrimination, this custodian of the ruins, and 
when he saw our four-in-hand and learned who we were 
— Americans ! Brighton to Inverness ! — he made us an 
exception to the rule, of which I trust his lordship will 
approve, if he ever hears. We had one of our happiest 
luncheons beneath the walls under a large hawthorn tree, 
which we decided was the very place where the enraged 
Queen Bess discovered dear Amy Robsart on that mem- 
orable night. 

A thousand memories cluster round this ruin ; but 
what should we have known of it had not the great 
magician touched with his wand this dead mass of stone 
and lime and conferred immortality upon the actors and 



126 Foiir-in-Hand in Britain. 

their revels? In his pages we live over again the days 
of old, and take part with the Virgin Queen and her 
train of lords and ladies in the grand reception so lav- 
ishly prepared for her amusement by the then reigning 
favorite ; ruined walls and towers and courts assume 
their ancient proportions and resound with music and 
revelry, and the noble park, now so quiet, is alive once 
more with huntsmen and gayly clad courtiers. But 
vivid as is Scott's picture, it is exceeded in quaint inter- 
est by the original account of the festivities from which 
the great romancer drew his facts, but which is as little 
known to the ordinary reader of " Kenilworth " as is 
the prototype of Hamlet to the common play-goer. 
Master Robert Laneham, the writer, was a sort of 
hanger-on of the court, and appears to have accompa- 
nied Leicester to Kenilworth. His account is in the 
form of a letter addressed to " my good friend, Master 
Humfrey Martin, Mercer," in London, and is written, 
says Scott, " in a style of the most intolerable affecta- 
tion, both in point of composition and orthography." 

After a brief account of the preliminary journey of 
the queen, this veracious chronicler informs us that she 
was " met in the Park, about a flight shoot from the 
Brayz and first gate of the castl" by a person repre- 
senting " one of the ten Sibills, comely clad in a Pall of 
white Sylk, who pronounced a proper Poezi in English 
Rime and meeter." . . . " This her majestie benignly 
accepting, passed foorth untoo the next gate of the 



A Giant's Portrait. 127 

Brayz, which, for the length, largenes, and use they call 
now the Tylt-yard ; whear a Porter, tall of Person, big 
of lim and stearn of countinance, wrapt also all in Sylke, 
with a club and keiz of quantitee according, had a rough 
speech full of Passions, in meeter aptly made to the 
purpose." 

Be it here recorded that the Charioteers had the pleas- 
ure while in London of looking upon the portrait of this 
giant porter, which hangs in the King's Guard Chamber 
at Hampton Court Palace. It is supposed to have been 
painted by the Italian artist Ferdinando Zucchero, who, 
it will be remembered, visited England. The fellow is 
truly called " big of lim," for the canvas is more than 
nine feet high and the figure, which is said to be of life 
size, measures eight and a half feet. His hand is seven- 
teen inches long. He stands with his left hand on his 
hip and his right on a long rapier ; is dressed in large 
balloon breeches, with black stockings, and a white 
quilted vest with a black waistcoat over it ; and wears 
a cap with a feather in it and a small ruff. The picture 
was painted after the queen's visit to Kenilworth, for 
the date 1580 is plainly to be seen in one of the upper 
corners. 

When the great porter had concluded, " six Trum- 
petoours, every one an eight foot hye in due proportion 
of Parson beside, all in long garments of Sylk suitabl," 
who stood upon the wall over the gate, sounded a " tune 
of welcum." These " armonious blasterz mainteined their 



128 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

music very delectably," while the queen rode into the 
inner gate, " where the Ladye of the Lake (famous in 
King Arthurz Book) with two Nymphes waiting uppon 
her, arrayed all in Sylks, attended her highness' coming. 
From the midst of the Pool, whear uppon a inoovable 
Hand bright blazing with Torches, she floating to land, 
met her majestie with a well-penned meeter," expressive 
of the " Anncientie of the castl " and the hereditary 
dignity of its owners. 

" This Pageant was cloz'd up with a delectabl har- 
mony of Hautboiz, Shalmz, Cornets, and such oother 
loord Muzik," that held on while her majesty crossed a 
bridge over a dry valley in front of the castle gate, the 
different posts of which were decorated with fruits, flow- 
ers, birds, and other decorations emblematic of the gifts 
of Sylvanus, Pomona, Ceres, Neptune, and other divini- 
ties. Having passed this, the main gate of the castle 
was reached. Over it, on a " Tabl beautifully garnisht 
aboove with her Highness' Arms" was inscribed a Latin 
poem descriptive of the various tributes paid to her 
arrival by the gods and goddesses. The verses were 
read to her by a poet " in a long ceruleoous garment, 
with a side and wide sleevz Venecian wize drawen up to 
his elboz, his dooblet sleevz under that Crimson, noth- 
ing but Sylk : a Bay garland on his head, and a skro in 
his hand." . . . "So passing into the inner Coourt, 
her majesty (that never rides but alone), thear sat 
down from her palfrey, was conveied up to Chamber : 



Bear baiting. 129 

When, after did folio so great peal of gunz, and such 
lightning by fyrwork a long space toagither, as Jupiter 
woold sheaw himself too be no furthur behind with his 
welcoom than the rest of his gods." 

The chronicler then gives an account of the festivi- 
ties, which lasted seventeen days and comprised nearly 
every amusement known to the period. On Sunday, 
after " divine servis and preaching," the afternoon was 
spent in " excellent muzik of sundry swet Instruments 
and in dauncing of Lordes and Ladiez, and other woor- 
shipfull degreez, uttered with such lively agilitee and 
commendable grace az whither it moought be more 
straunge too the eye, or pleazunt too the minde, for 
my part indeed I coold not discern." 

One morning was devoted to a bearbaiting, in which 
thirteen bears and bandogs took part, " with such fend- 
ing and prooving, with plucking and tugging, skratting 
and byting, by plain tooth and nayll a to side and 
toother, such expens of blood and leather waz thear 
between them, as a moonths licking I ween will not 
recoover." 

Refined amusement, you say, for the Queen of Eng- 
land and her court only three hundred years ago. But 
not so fast, my dear lady ; think what three hundred 
years hence will say of you and your amusements. Did 
you not give us a lively description the other evening 
of your riding after the hounds ? Lady Gay Spanker 
herself, I thought, could not have done it better, and I 
9 



130 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

am sure she was not more fascinating than you. But 
long before one hundred years shall pass, my friend, ladies 
in your station will be equally amazed that you could so 
torture a poor hare or fox and feel it to be not only 
not unworthy of a lady but a source of enjoyment to 
you. I say your grandchild will blush for her grandma 
as she shows to her children the picture of your lovely 
face. What Queen Elizabeth is now in your eyes, what 
Roman emperors in the bloody Coliseum were in hers, 
you will be in the eyes of the third generation after 
you. Think of this. Remember what Cowper says : 

" I would not rank among my list of friends, 
Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, 
That man who needlessly sets foot upon a worm." 

Men will give up such sports after a time ; but surely 
we may expect women to find even in this day not only 
no pleasure but even positive pain in such sports and 
leave them to coarser natures. 

Another day was marked by the exhibition of an 
Italian tumbler, who displayed " such feats of agilitee, 
in goinges, turninges, tumblinges, castings, hops, jumps, 
leaps, skips, springs, gambaud, soomersauts, caprettiez, 
and flights ; forward, backward, sydewize, a doownward, 
upward, and with sundry windings, gyrings and circum- 
flexions ; allso lightly and with such eaziness, as by me 
in feaw words it is not expressibl by pen or speech I 
tell yoo plain." On the second Sunday, after a " frute- 
full Sermon," a " solemn Brydeale of a proper Coopl 



Sunday Amusements. 131 

was appointed in the tylt-yard," attended by all the 
country folk in holiday costume. This was followed by 
Morris dances, a Coventry play, and other games. " By 
my troth, Master Martyn, 'twaz a lively pastime ; I be- 
leeve it woold have mooved sum man to a right meerry 
mood, though had it be toold him hiz wife lay a dying." 
And all this on the Holy Sawbath — for shame, Queen 
Bess! 

Nearly every hour had its appointed sport, one amuse- 
ment following another in endless variety, and the park 
was peopled with mimic gods and goddesses who surprised 
the queen with complimentary dialogues and addresses 
at every turn. Dancing and feasting were kept up all 
day long and far into the night, for no note was taken 
of time. " The clok bell sang not a note all the while 
her highness waz thear ; the clok also stood still withall ; 
the handz of both the tablz stood firm and fast, allwayz 
poynting at two a clok," the hour of banquet. 

The day of our visit to Kenilworth was very warm, 
even for Americans, and after luncheon we became a 
lazy, sleepy party. I have a distinct recollection of an 
upward and then a downward movement which awoke 
me suddenly. One after another of the party, caught 
asleep on a rug, was treated to a tossing amid screams 
of laughter. We were all very drowsy, but a fresh 
breeze arose as the sun declined, and remounting the 
coach late in the afternoon we had a charming drive to 
Stratford-on-Avon. 



132 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Stratford-on-Avon, June 23. 
Our resting-place was the Red Horse Inn, of which 
Washington Irving has written so delightfully. One 
can hardly say that he comes into Shakespeare's coun- 
try, for one is always there, so deeply and widely has 
his influence reached. We live in his land always ; but, 
as we approached the quiet little village where he ap- 
peared on earth, we could not help speculating upon the 
causes which produced the prodigy. One almost expects 
nature herself to present a different aspect to enable us 
to account in some measure for the apparition of a being 
so far beyond all others ; but it is not so — we see only 
the quiet beauty which characterizes almost every part 
of England. His sweet sonnets seem the natural out- 
birth of the land. Where met he the genius of tragedy, 
think you ? Surely not on the cultivated banks of the 
gentle Avon, where all is so tame. But as Shakespeare 
resembled other burghers of Stratford so much, not 
showing upon the surface that he was that 

" largest son of time 
Who wandering sang to a listening world," 

our search for external conditions as to his environment 
need not be continued. Ordinary laws are inapplica- 
ble — he was a law unto himself. How or why Shake- 
speare was Shakespeare will be settled when there shall 
be few problems of the race left to settle. It is well 
that he lies on the banks of the Avon, for that requires 



Shakespeare s Tomb. 133 

us to make a special visit to his shrine to worship him. 
His mighty shade alone fills the mind. True mono- 
theists are we all who make the pilgrimage to Stratford. 
I have been there often, but I am always awed into 
silence as I approach the church ; and when I stand 
beside the ashes of Shakespeare I cannot repress stern, 
gloomy thoughts, and ask why so potent a force is now 
but a little dust. The inexplicable waste of nature, a mill- 
ion born that one may live, seems nothing compared 
to this — the brain of a god doing its work one day and 
food for worms the next ! No wonder, George Eliot, 
that this was ever the weight that lay upon your heart 
and troubled you so ! 

A cheery voice behind me. "What is the matter? 
Are you ill ? You look as if you hadn't a friend in the 
world ! " Thanks, gentle remembrancer. This is no 
time for the Scribe to forget himself. We are not out 
for lessons or for moralizing. Things are and shall be 
" altogether lovely." One must often laugh if one 
would not cry. 

Here is a funny conceit. A worthy draper in the 
town has recently put an upright stone at the head of 
his wife's grave, with an inscription setting forth the 
dates of her birth and death, and beneath it the follow- 
ing verse : 

" For the Lord has done great things for us, whereof 
we are exceeding glad." 

The wretch ! One of the wives of our party declared 



134 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

that she could not like a man who could think at such a 
crisis of such a verse, no matter how he meant it. She 
was confident that he was one of those terribly resigned 
kind of men who will find that the Lord has done great 
things for him in the shape of a second helpmeet within 
two years. 

This led to a search for other inscriptions. Here is 
one which struck our fancy : 

" Under these ashes lies one close confined, 
Who was to all both affable and kind ; 
A neighbor good, extensive to ye poor, 
Her soul we hope's at rest forevermore." 

This was discussed and considered to go rather too 
far. Good Swedenborgians still dispute about the 
body's rising again, and make a great point of that, as 
showing their superior wisdom, as if it mattered whether 
we rise with this body or another, any more than 
whether we wear one suit of clothes or another; the 
great matter being that we rise at all. But this good 
friend seems to bespeak rest forever for the soul. One 
of us spoke of having lately seen a very remarkable col- 
lection of passages from Scripture which seemed to 
permit the hope that all for whom a kind father has 
nothing better in store than perpetual torture will kindly 
be permitted to rest. One of the passages in question 
was: " For the wicked shall perish everlastingly." The 
question was remitted to the theologians of our party, 



Everlasting Punishment. 135 

with instructions to give it prayerful consideration and 
report. 

If there be Scriptural warrant for the belief, I wish to 
embrace it at once. Meanwhile I am not going to be 
sure that any poor miserable sinner is to be disturbed 
when after " life's fitful fever he sleeps well " on the ten- 
der, forgiving bosom of mother earth, unless he can be 
finally fitted for as good or a better life than this. 
Therefore, good Emma and Ella and the rest who are 
staunch dogmatists, be very careful how you report, for 
it is a fearful thing to charge our Creator unjustly with 
decreeing everlasting torture even to the worst offender 
into whom He has breathed the breath of life. Refrain, 
if possible, 

"Under this conjuration speak ; 
For we will hear, note, and believe in heart 
That what you speak is in your conscience washed 
As pure as sin with baptism." 

I have not yet been favored with the report asked 
for, and therefore the question rests. 

The Charioteers got upon delicate ground occasion- 
ally, as was to be expected, and although in all well 
regulated families two subjects — politics and religion — 
are proscribed, we came near running foul of the latter 
to-day. There were wide differences of opinion among 
us, of course, from the true blue Presbyterian, strong for 
all the tenets of Calvin, down to the milder Episcopa- 
lian who took more hopeful views and asked : 



136 Foitr-in-Hand in Britain, 

" Shall there not be as good a ' Then ' as ' Now ' ? 
Haply much better ! since one grain of rice 
Shoots a green feather gemmed with fifty pearls, 
And all the starry champak's white and gold 
Lurks in those little, naked, gray spring-buds." 

I related an incident which happened in Rome. As 
I entered the general drawing room one evening, an ex- 
citing discussion was going forward on the very subject 
which we were then considering. A lady of rank was 
giving expression to very advanced ideas which others 
were combatting. An old gentleman at last said : 
" Ladies and gentlemen, all this reminds me of a discus- 
sion we young men were having once in my good old 
father's hall, when my father happened to enter. After 
listening to us a few minutes he said : ' Young men, 
you may as well cease your arguing. I'll tell you all 
about it. In this life 

" Our ingress is naked and bare, 
Our progress is trouble and care, 
Our egress is — no one knows where. 

If you do well here, you'll do well there, — 

I could tell you no more if I preached for a year." 

The effect was instantaneous. Unanimous adhesion 
was given to the old gentleman's conclusion, and the 
party bid each other a cordial good night and went 
reconciled to bed. I am happy to record that such was 
also the effect upon the Charioteers. 

It will be taken for granted that while the Charioteers 



Shakespeare Stories. 137 

were in this hallowed region many stories were told about 
Shakespeare. Two of the gentlemen of our party, at 
least, dated our love of letters to the circumstance that 
we were messenger boys in the Pittsburgh telegraph 
office ; and when we carried telegrams to the managers 
of the theatre, good kind Mr. Porter (followed by one 
equally kind to us, Mr. Foster) permitted us after deliv- 
ering them to pass up to the gallery among the gods, 
where we heard now and then one of the immortal plays. 
Having heard the melodious flow of words, which of 
themselves seem to have some spiritual meaning apart 
from the letter — differing in this from all other combina- 
tions of words — how could we rest till we got the plays 
and learnt most of the notable passages by heart, croon- 
ing over them till they became parts of our intellectual 
being? One story, I remember, shows how completely 
the master pervades literature. It is authentic, too, for 
the teller was one of the actors in it. 

Visiting friends in a country town, he went with the 
family to church Sunday morning. The clergyman 
called in the evening and seeing upon the parlor table 
an open copy of Shakespeare, perhaps suspecting (which 
was true) that our friend had been entertaining the ladies 
with selections from it, Sunday evening as it was, he felt 
moved to say that it was the worldling's bible, which for 
himself he thought but little of and never recommended 
for general reading. It was the mainstay of the theatre. 
That is very strange, said our friend, for we have all been 



138 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

saying that the finest part of your sermon was a short 
quotation from Shakespeare, and I have been reading the 
whole passage to the ladies. Here it is: 

" The quality of mercy is not strained ; 
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven, 
Upon the place beneath : it is twice blessed ; 
It blesses him that gives, and him that takes." 

Imagine the feelings of the narrow, ignorant man, who 
really thought he had a call from God to teach man- 
kind. But he could not help it. A man can no more 
escape the influence of Shakespeare than he can that of 
surroundings. Shakespeare is the environment of all 
English-speaking men. 

Davie's Shakespearean story was of a fellow in Ve- 
nango County who, having just " struck ile," bought from 
a pedler a copy of " As You Like It." He was so pleased 
with Touchstone that he wrote to the pedler: " If that 
fellow Shakespeare ever writes anything more, be sure to 
get me one of the first copies — and d — the expense ! " 

We had one of the loveliest mornings imaginable for 
leaving Stratford. Many had assembled to see the start, 
and our horn sounded several parting blasts as we crossed 
the bridge and rode out of the town. Our destination 
was Coventry, twenty-two miles away, and the route lay 
through Charlecote Park and Hampton Lucy. This was 
one of the most perfect of all our days. The deer in 
hundreds gazed on us as we passed. There were some 
noble stags in the herd, the finest we had seen in Eng- 



Sir Thomas Lucy. 139 

land, and Charlecote House was the best specimen of 
an Elizabethan mansion. It was built about 1558 by 
the very Sir Thomas Lucy whom Shakespeare satirized 
as Justice Shallow. The original family name was 
Charlecote or Cherlcote, but about the end of the twelfth 
century William, son of Walter de Cherlcote, assumed 
the name of Lucy and took for his arms three luces 
(pike fish) ; so Justice Shallow was warranted in affirming 
that his was an " old coat." The poet's verses will stick 
to him as long as the world lasts ; but judging from other 
circumstances, Sir Thomas was a very good sort of a 
man and no doubt a fair specimen of the English Squire 
of the time. His effigy may still be seen on his tomb 
in Charlecote Church, beside that of his wife — a not un- 
intelligent face, with moustache and peaked beard cut 
square at the end, surrounded by the ruff then in fashion. 
There is no epitaph of himself, but the marble bears a 
warm memorial of his wife, who died five years before 
him, concluding thus: 

" Set down by him that best did know 
What hath been written to be true." 

Thomas Lucy. 

It is commonly said that Shakespeare was arrested 
for poaching in this very park, but the antiquaries have 
decided that it was the old park of Fulbrook on the 
Warwick road, where Fulbrook Castle once stood. But 
it makes little difference where the precise place was. 
That is of interest only to the Dryasdusts. All we care 



140 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

to know is that Shakespeare wanted a taste of venison 
which was denied him, and took it without leave or 
license. The descendant of that squire, my gentle 
Shakespeare, would give you the entire herd for another 
speech to " the poor sequestered stag," which you could 
dash off — no, you never dashed off anything; create? 
no; evolved? that's nearer it; distilled — there we have 
it — distilled as the pearls of dew are distilled by nature's 
sweet influences unknown to man. He would exchange 
Charlecote estate, man, for another Hamlet or Macbeth, 
or Lear or Othello, and the world would buy it from him 
for double the cost of all his broad acres, and esteem 
itself indebted to him forever. The really precious 
things of this world are its books. 

To do things is not one-half the battle. Carlyle is 
all wrong about this. To be able to tell the world 
what you have done, that is the greater accomplish- 
ment ! Caesar is the greatest man of the sword because 
he was in his day the greatest man of the pen. Had 
he known how to fight only, tradition would have 
handed down his name for a few generations with a tol- 
erably correct account of his achievements ; but now 
every school-boy fights over again his battles and sur- 
mounts the difficulties he surmounted, and so his fame 
goes on increasing forever. 

What a man says too often outlives what he does, 
even when he does great things. General Grant's fame 
is not to rest upon the fact that he was successful in 



Beautiful Trees. 141 

killing his fellow-citizens in a civil war, all traces of 
which America wishes to obliterate, but upon the words 
he said now and then. His " Push things!" will influ- 
ence Americans when Vicksburg shall be forgotten. 
" I propose to fight it out on this line " will be part of 
the language when few will remember when it was 
spoken ; and " Let us have peace " is Grant's most last- 
ing monument. Truly, both the pen and the tongue 
are mightier than the sword ! 

The drive from Warwick to Leamington is famous, 
but not comparable to that between Leamington and 
Coventry. Nowhere else can be found such an avenue 
of stately trees ; for many miles a strip about two hun- 
dred feet wide on both sides of the road is wooded. In 
passing through this plantation many a time did we 
bless the good, kind, thoughtful soul who generations 
ago laid posterity under so great an obligation. Dead 
and gone, his name known to the local antiquary and 
appreciated by a few of the district, but never heard of 
beyond it. " So shines a good deed in a naughty world." 
Receive the warm thanks and God bless you of pilgrims 
from a land now containing the majority of the Eng- 
lish-speaking races, which was not even born when you 
planted these stately trees. Americans come to bless 
your memory ; for what says Sujata: 

" For holy books teach when a man shall plant 
Trees for the travellers' shade, and dig a well 
For the folks' comfort, and beget a son, 
It shall be good for such after their death." 



142 Four -in- Hand in Britain. 

Who shall doubt that it is well with the dear, kind 
soul who planted the thousand trees which delighted us 
this day, nodding their graceful boughs in genial wel- 
come to the strangers and forming a triumphal arch 
in their honor. 



Coventry, June 24. 
Coventry in these days has a greater than Godiva. 
George Eliot stands alone among women ; no second 
near that throne. We visited the little school-room 
where she learnt her first lessons ; but more than that, 
the Mayor, who kindly conducted us through the city, 
introduced us to a man who had been her teacher. " I 
knew the strange little thing well," he said. A proud 
privilege indeed ! I would have given much to know 
George Eliot, for many reasons. I heard with some- 
thing akin to fellowship that she longed to be at every 
symphony, oratorio, or concert of classical music, and 
rarely was that strong, brooding face missed at such 
feasts. Indeed, it was through attending one of these 
that she caught the cold which terminated fatally. 
Music was a passion with her, as she found in it calm 
and peace for the troubled soul tossed and tried by the 
sad, sad things of life. I understand this. A friend 
told me that a lady friend of hers, who was staying at 
the hotel in Florence where George Eliot was, made 
her acquaintance casually without knowing her name. 
Something, she knew not what, attracted her to her, 
and after a few days she began sending flowers to the 



George Eliot. 143 

strange woman. Completely fascinated, she went 
almost daily for hours to sit with her. This continued 
for many days, the lady using the utmost freedom, and 
not without feeling that the attention was pleasing to 
the queer, plain, and unpretending Englishwoman. One 
day she discovered by chance who her companion 
really was. Never before, as she said, had she felt such 
mortification. She went timidly to George Eliot's room 
and took her hand in hers, but shrank back unable to 
speak, while the tears rolled down her cheeks. " What 
is wrong?" was asked, and then the explanation came. 
" I didn't know who you were. I never suspected it 
wasjjw;/" Then came George Eliot's turn to be em- 
barrassed. " You did not know I was George Eliot, but 
you were drawn to plain me all for my own self, a 
woman? I am so happy!" She kissed the American 
lady tenderly, and the true friendship thus formed knew 
no end, but ripened to the close. 

The finest thing not in her works that I know this 
genius to have said is this : Standing one day leaning 
upon the mantel she remarked : " I can imagine the 
coming of a day when the effort to relieve human beings 
in distress will be as involuntary upon the part of the 
beholder as to clasp this mantel would be this moment 
on my part were I about to fall." There's an ideal for 
you ! Christ might have said that. 

The state here imagined is akin to her friend Her- 
bert Spencer's grand paragraph. 



144 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

" Conscientiousness has in many outgrown that stage 
in which the sense of a compelling power is joined 
with rectitude of action. The truly honest man, here 
and there to be found, is not only without thought of 
legal, religious, or social compulsion, when he discharges 
an equitable claim on him ; but he is without thought 
of self-compulsion. He does the right thing with a 
simple feeling of satisfaction in doing it, and is indeed 
impatient if anything prevents him from having the sat- 
isfaction of doing it." Who is going to cloud the hori- 
zon of the future of our race with traitor-doubts when 
already, in our own day, amid much which saddens us, 
the beams of a brighter sun, herald of a better day, 
already touch the mountain tops, for such are this 
woman and this man towering above their fellows. By 
and by these beams will reach the lesser heights — and 
anon, the very plains will be transformed by them, and 

" Man to man the world o'er shall brothers be, 

And a' that." 

I think that because we are so happy in this glorious 
life we are now leading, we are disposed to be so very 
kind to each other. The Charioteers, one and all, seem 
to me to have reached Mr. Spencer's ideal. If there's a 
thing that can be done to promote the happiness of 
others, they are only impatient till they have the satis- 
faction of doing it. Happiness is known to be a great 
beautifier — but is it not also a great doer of good 



George Eliot's Poetry. 145 

to others? It was resolved to debate the question 
whether the happy person is not also the one who really 
thinks most and does most for others — not for hope of 
reward or fear of punishment, but simply because he 
has reached the stage where he has a simple satisfaction 
in doing it. 

Here is George Eliot's greatest thing in poetry, for 
her poems are much less known than they should be. 

" O may I join the choir invisible 
Of those immortal dead who live again 
In minds made better by their presence : live 
In pulses stirred to generosity, 
In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn 
For miserable aims that end with self, 
In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, 
And with their mild persistence urge men's search 
To vaster issues. 
********* 

" May I reach 
That purest heaven, be to other souls 
The cup of strength in some great agony, 
Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, 
Beget the smiles that have no cruelty — 
Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, 
And in diffusion ever more intense. 
So shall I join the choir invisible 
Whose music is the gladness of the world." 

One thing more about our heroine, and a grand thing, 
said by Colonel Ingersoll. " In the court of her own 



146 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

conscience she sat pure as light, stainless as a star." I 
believe that, my dear Colonel. Why can you not give 
the world such gems as you are capable of, and let us 
alone about future things, concerning which you know 
no more than a new-born babe or a D.D. ? 

There is a good guide-book for Coventry, and there's 
much to tell about that city. It was once the ecclesias- 
tical centre of England. Parliaments have sat there 
and great things have been done in Coventry. Many 
curious and valuable papers are seen in the hall. There 
is the order of Queen Elizabeth to her truly and well- 
beloved Mayor of Coventry, directing him to assist 
Earls Huntingdon and Shrewsbury in good charge of 
Mary Queen of Scots. There is a mace given by Crom- 
well to the corporation. You see that ruler of men 
could bestow maces as well as order his troopers to 
" take away that bauble " when the commonwealth 
required nursing. These and many more rare treasures 
are kept in an old building which is not fire-proof — a 
clear tempting of Providence. If I ever become so 
great a man as a councillor of Coventry, my maiden 
speech shall be upon the enormity of this offence. A 
councillor who carried a vote for a fire-proof building 
should some day reach the mayorship. This is a hint 
to our friends there. 

The land question still troubles England, but even 
in Elizabeth's time it was thought not unconstitutional 
to fix rents arbitrarily. Here lies an edict of Her 



Coventry Cathedral. 147 

Majesty good Queen Bess, fixing the rates for pastur- 
age on the commons near Coventry : " For one cow 
per week, one penny ; for one horse, two-pence." Our 
agriculturists should take this for a basis, a Queen 
Elizabeth valuation ! I suppose some expert or other 
could figure the " fair rent " for anything, if given this 
basis to start upon. 

The churches are very fine, the stained-glass windows 
excelling in some respects any we have seen, the amount 
of glass is so much greater. The entire end of one of 
the cathedral churches is filled by three immense win- 
dows reaching from floor to roof, the effect of which is 
very grand. The choir of this church is not in line with 
the other portion of the building. In reply to my 
inquiry why this was so, the guide boldly assured us, 
with a look of surprise at our ignorance, that all cathe- 
drals are so constructed, and that the crooked choir 
symbolizes the head of Christ, which is always repre- 
sented leaning to one side of the cross. The idea made 
me shiver ; I felt as if I should never be able to walk 
up the aisle of a cathedral again without an unpleasant 
sensation. Thanks to a clear-headed, thorough-going 
young lady, who, "just didn't believe it," we soon got 
at the truth about cathedrals, for she proved that they 
are everywhere built on straight lines. This guide fitly 
illustrates the danger of good men staying at home in 
their little island. His cathedral is crooked, and there- 
fore all others are or should be so. Very English this, 



148 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

very. There are many things still crooked in the dear 
old tight little isle which other lands have straightened 
out long ago, or rather never built crooked. Hurry up, 
you leader of nations in generations past ! It's not your 
role in the world to lag behind ; at least it has not been 
till lately, when others have " bettered your instruc- 
tion." Come along, England, you are not done for; 
only stir yourself, and the lead is still yours. The guide 
was a theological student, and therefore could not be 
expected to have much general knowledge, but he surely 
should have known something about cathedrals. 

It rained at Coventry during breakfast, and friend G. 
ventured to suggest that perhaps some of the ladies 
might prefer going by rail to Birmingham and join the 
coach there, at luncheon ; but 

" He did not know the stuff 
Of our gallant crew, so tough, 
On board the Charioteer O." 

He was " morally sat upon," as Lucy says. Not a 
lady but indignantly repelled the suggestion. Even Mrs. 
G., a bride, and naturally somewhat in awe of her hus- 
band yet, went so far as to say " Tom is a little queer 
this morning." 

Waterproofs and umbrellas to the front, we sallied 
forth from the courtyard of the Queen's in a drenching 
down-pour. 

" But what care we how wet we be. 
By the coach we'll live or die." 



The Oxford Don. 149 

That was the sentiment which animated our breasts. 
For my part I was very favorably situated, and I held 
my umbrella very low to shield my fair charge the bet- 
ter. Of course I greatly enjoyed the first few miles 
under such conditions. My young lady broke into song, 
and I thought I caught the sense of the words, which I 
fondly imagined was something like this : 

" For if you are under an umbrella 
With a very handsome fellow, 
It cannot matter much what the weather may be." 

I asked if I had caught the words correctly, but she 
archly insinuated there was something in the second 
line that wasn't quite correct. I think, though, she 
was only in fun ; the words were quite right, only her 
eyes seemed to wander in the direction of young B. 

None of the ladies would go inside, so Joe had the 
compartment all to himself, and no doubt smiled at the 
good joke as we bowled along. Joe was dry inside, and 
Perry, though outside, was just the same ere we found 
an inn. This recalled the story of the coachman and 
the Oxford Don, when the latter expressed his sym- 
pathy at the condition of the former ; so sorry he was 
so wet. " Wouldn't mind being so wet, your honor, if 
I weren't so dry" But I think R. P.'s story almost as 
good as that. A Don tried to explain to the coachman 
the operation of the telegraph as they drove along. 
"They take a glass about the size of an ordinary 



150 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

tumbler, and this they fill with a liquid resembling — 
ah — like — ah — " " Anything like beer, your honor, for 
instance? " If Jehu didn't get his complimentary glass 
at the next halt, that Don was a muff. 

The rain ceased, as usual, before we had gone far, 
and we had a clear dry run until luncheon. We see the 
Black Country now, rows of little dingy houses beyond, 
with tall smoky chimneys vomiting smoke, mills and 
factories at every turn, coal pits and rolling mills and 
blast furnaces, the very bottomless pit itself ; and such 
dirty, careworn children, hard-driven men, and squalid 
women. To think of the green lanes, the larks, the 
Arcadia we have just left. How can people be got to 
live such terrible lives as they seem condemned to 
here? Why do they not all run away to the green 
fields just beyond? Pretty rural Coventry suburbs in 
the morning and Birmingham at noon ; the lights and 
shadows of human existence can rarely be brought into 
sharper contrast. If 

" Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay " 

surely better a year in Leamington than life's span in 
the Black Country ! But do not let us forget that it is 
just Pittsburgh over again ; nay, not even quite so bad, 
for that city bears the palm for dirt against the world. 
The fact is, however, that life in such places seems at- 
tractive to those born to rural life, and large smoky 
cities drain the country ; but surely this may be safely 



Overworked Americans. 151 

attributed to necessity. With freedom to choose, one 
would think the rush would be the other way. The 
working classes in England do not work so hard or so 
unceasingly as do their fellows in America. They have 
ten holidays to the American's one. Neither does their 
climate entail such a strain upon men as ours does. 

I remember after Vandy and I had gone round the 
world and were walking Pittsburgh streets, we decided 
that the Americans were the saddest-looking race we 
had seen. Life is so terribly earnest here. Ambition 
spurs us all on, from him who handles the spade to him 
who employs thousands. We know no rest. It is dif- 
ferent in the older lands — men rest oftener and enjoy 
more of what life has to give. The young Republic has 
some things to teach the parent land, but the elder has 
an important lesson to teach the younger in this respect. 
In this world we must learn not to lay up our treasures, 
but to enjoy them day by day as we travel the path we 
never return to. If we fail in this we shall find when 
we do come to the days of leisure that we have lost the 
taste for and the capacity to enjoy them. There are so 
many unfortunates cursed with plenty to retire upon, 
but with nothing to retire to ! Sound wisdom that 
school-boy displayed who did not " believe in putting 
away for to-morrow the cake he could eat to-day." It 
might not be fresh on the morrow, or the cat might steal 
it. The cat steals many a choice bit from Americans 
intended for the morrow. Among the saddest of all 



152 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 

spectacles to me is that of an elderly man occupying 
his last years grasping for more dollars. " The richest 
man in America sailing suddenly for Europe to escape 
business cares," said a wise Scotch gentleman to me, 
one morning, as he glanced over the Times at breakfast. 
Make a note of that, my enterprising friends, and let 
it be recorded here that this was written before my 
friend Herbert Spencer preached to us the gospel of 
relaxation. 

It has always been assumed that dirt and smoke are 
necessary evils in manufacturing towns, but the next 
generation will probably wonder how men could be in- 
duced to live under such disagreeable conditions. Many 
of us will live to see all the fuel which is now used in so 
thriftless a way converted into clean gas before it is fed 
to the furnaces, and thus consumed without poisoning 
the atmosphere with smoke, which involves at the same 
time so great a loss of carbon. Birmingham and Pitts- 
burgh will some day rejoice in unsullied skies, and even 
London will be a clean city. 

We spent the afternoon in Birmingham, and enjoyed 
a great treat in the Public Hall, in which there is one of 
the best organs of the world. It is played every Satur- 
day by an eminent musician, admission free. This is 
one of the little — no, one of the great — things done for 
the masses in many cities in England, the afternoon of 
Saturday being kept as a holiday everywhere. 

Here is the programme for Saturday, June 25 : 



Itftttu fpH ftgpn ftmtal. 

BY MR. STIMPSON. 

From 3 till 4 o'clock. 



fnrpimme for lime 25, 1M1: 

i. Overture to A Midsummer Nighfs Dream, Mendelssohn. 

(It will only be necessary to state this descriptive Overture was 
written in Berlin, August 6, 1826. Shakespeare and Mendelssohn 
must have been kindred spirits, for surely no more poetic in- 
spiration ever came from the pen of any musical composer than 
the Overture of the great German master.) 

2. Romanza, - — - - - - Haydn. 

(This charming Movement is taken from the Symphony which 
Haydn wrote in 17S6, for Paris, entitled " La Reinede France," 
and has been arranged for the organ by Mr. Best, of Liverpool.) 

3. Offertoire, in F major, — — — - Batiste. 

'All the works of the French masters, Wely, Batiste, Guilmant, 
and Saint-Saens, if not severely classical, have a certain grace 
and charm which make them acceptable to even the most preju- 
diced admirers of the ancient masters ; and this Offertoire of 
Batiste is one of the most popular of his compositions.) 

4. Fugue in G minor, - - - - J. S. Bach. 

(It may interest connoisseurs to know this grand Fugue was se- 
lected by the Umpires for the trial of skill when the present 
Organist of the Town Hall was elected.) 

5. Jaglied (Hunting Song), - — — Schumann. 

6. Selection from the Opera" Martha" - - Flotow. 

(The Opera from which this selection is taken was written in Vi- 
enna, in 1847, and, in conjunction with " Stradella," at once 
stamped the name of the author as one of the most popular of 
the dramatic composers of the present day.) 

7. Dead March in Saul, — — - - Handel 

%\\ pemimam, $%v gosiaft Item*. 



JJrice ©ne ^cilfpentttn 



The next Free Organ Recital will be given on July 2d, 

AT THREE O'CLOCK. 

A HISTORY of the TOWN HALL ORGAN (a New Edition, Revised and 
Enlarged,) by Mr. STIMPSON, 

Is now ready, and may be had in the Town Hall, and the Midland Educational 
Co.'s Warehouse, New Street. 

NOTICE.— A bos will be placed at each door to receive contributions, to 
defray the expenses of these Recitals. 



154 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

The Prima Donna said she had never before heard an 
organ so grandly played, and she knows. The manage- 
ment of the left hand in the fugue she declared wonder- 
ful. It is best to give the best for the masses, even in 
music, the highest of our gifts. John Bright has made 
most of his speeches in this hall, but it is no longer large 
enough for the Liberal demonstrations, and a much 
larger structure has been erected. 

We are behind in providing music for the people, but 
it says much for the progress of the Republic in these 
higher domains, from whence come sweetness and light, 
that the greatest tragic singer, Frau Materna, said to a 
friend that she would tell Herr Wagner upon her return 
that if he wished to hear his greatest music performed 
better than ever it had been before he must come to 
New York. Alas ! even as I re-write these pages comes 
the sad news that we can reap no more from that genius. 
He has made his contribution to the world, and a noble 
one it is, rejoicing many hearts and lifting many above 
their surroundings to exquisite enjoyments beyond ; and 
now he closes his eyes and vanishes ; the long day's task 
is ended and he must sleep. 

To-night the Symphony Society substitutes for an- 
other number of their programme his Funeral March. It 
will seem like a voice from the grave ; not a dry eye, nor 
a cold heart will be in the house. A soul has taken 
flight to whom we are under obligation, which must in- 
crease and increase the longer we live, for it has given 



Eurnaces and Coalpits. 155 

expression to much that is of our highest and best, and 
suggested a thousandfold more than ever could be 
expressed. Our benefactor is indeed gone, in a sense 
material, but his soul lives with us and his voice will still 
be heard calling us up higher. The man who reveals new 
beauties in music enriches human life in one of its highest 
phases, and is to be ranked with the true poet. He who 
composes great music is the equal of him who writes great 
words ; Beethoven, Handel, and Wagner are worthy- 
compeers of Shakespeare, Milton, and Burns. 

The eleven miles between Birmingham and Wolver- 
hampton are nothing but one vast iron-working, coal- 
mining establishment. There is scarcely a blade of grass 
of any kind to be seen, and not one real clean pure blade 
did we observe during the journey. It was Saturday 
afternoon and the mills were all idle, and the operatives 
thronged the villages through which we drove. O mills 
and furnaces and coal-pits and all the rest of you, you 
may be necessary, but you are no bonnie ! Pittsburghers 
though many of us were, inured to smoke and dirt, we 
felt the change very deeply from the hedgerows, the 
green pastures, the wild flowers and pretty clean cot- 
tages, and voted the district " horrid." Wolverhamp- 
ton's steeples soon came into sight, and we who had been 
there and could conjure up dear, honest, kindly faces 
waiting to welcome us with warm hearts, were quite re- 
stored to our usual spirits, notwithstanding dirt and 
squalor. The sun of a warm welcome from friends gives 



156 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 

many clouds a silver lining, and it did make the black 
country brighter. The coach and horses, and Joe and 
Perry, not to mention our generalissimo, belong to Wol- 
verhampton, as you know, and our arrival had been 
looked for by many. The crowd was quite dense in the 
principal street as we drove through. One delegation 
after another was left at friends' houses, the Charioteers 
having been billeted upon the connection ; and here for 
the first time we were to enjoy a respite. 



Wolverhampton, June 25-30. 

We were honored by an entertainment at his Honor 
the Mayor's. As usual on fine days in England, the 
attractions of the mansion (and they are not small in 
this case) gave place to open-air enjoyments on the 
lawn — the game, the race, the stroll, and all the rest of 
the sports which charm one in this climate. The race 
across the lawn was far better fun than the Derby, but 
our gentlemen must go into strict training before they 
challenge those English girls again. It is some consola- 
tion that Iroquois has since vindicated the glory of the 
Republic. 

We coached one day about fourteen miles to Apley 
House, and had a joyous picnic day with our friends 

Mr. and Mrs. S , of Newton. The party numbered 

seventy odd, great and small. That day the Charioteers 
agreed should be marked as a red-letter day in their 
annals, for surely never was a day's excursion produc- 



Small Rivers. 157 

tive of more enjoyment to all of us. There are few, if 
any, prettier views in England than that from the ter- 
race at Apley House. The Vale of Severn deserves its 
reputation. We had a trip on the river for several 
miles from Bridgenorth to the grounds as part of the 
day's pleasure. 

How very small England's great rivers are ! I re- 
member how deeply hurt Mr. F was when his Yan- 
kee nephew (H. P. Jr., Our Pard) visited him for the 
first time, and was shown the river by his uncle, who 
loved it. " Call this a river ? " exclaimed he, " why, it's 
only a creek! I could almost jump across it there." 
But H. P. was young then, and would not have hesitated 
to " speak disrespectfully of the equator " upon occa- 
sion. I won the good man's heart at once by saying 
that small though it was in size (and what has either 
he or I to boast of in that line, I wonder?) little Severn 
filled a larger space in the world's destiny and the 
world's thoughts than twenty mighty streams. Listen : 

" Three times they breathed and three times did they drink 
Upon agreement of swift Severn's flood, 
Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks, 
Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds 
And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank, 
Blood-stained with these violent combatants." 

Why, you have not a river like that in all America. 
H. P. was judiciously silent. But I do not think he was 



158 Four-in-Haud in Britain. 

ever quite forgiven. These Americans have always 
such big ideas. 

The free library at Wolverhampton interested me. 
I do not know where better proof of the advantages of 
such an institution is to be found. It was started upon 
a small scale, about fifteen thousand dollars being ex- 
pended ; now some forty thousand dollars have been 
spent upon the building. Last year eighty-six thousand 
books were issued. I counted at noon, June 30th, sixty- 
three persons in the reading-room, and at another time 
nearly two hundred readers. On Saturdays, between 
two and ten p.m., the number averages fully a thou- 
sand. In addition to the circulating library, there are a 
reference library, a museum, and large reading-rooms. 
Several courses of lectures are connected with the insti- 
tution, with teachers for the various branches. One 
teacher, a Mr. Williams, has " passed " scholars in the 
science and art department every year, and one year 
every one of his scholars passed the Kensington examina- 
tion. A working plumber who attended these classes 
gained prizes for chemistry and electricity, and is now 
secretary of the water-works at Chepstow. We may 
hear more of that climber yet. Plenty of room at the 
top ! No sectarian papers are subscribed for, but all 
reputable publications are received if sent. In this way 
all sects are represented by their best, if the members 
see fit to contribute them. This is the true plan. 
" Error may be tolerated if truth be free to combat it. 



A Peoples Library. 159 

Let truth and error grapple." This city levies one 
penny per pound upon the rates, as authorized by the 
Libraries act. This nets about four thousand dollars per 
annum. Just see what powerful agencies for the im- 
provement of the people can be set on foot for a trifling 
sum. 

And do not fail to note that this library, like all others 
in Britain organized under the Libraries act, does not 
pauperize a people. It is no man's library, but the 
library of the people — their own, maintained and paid 
for by public taxation to which all contribute. An en- 
dowed library is just like an endowed church, at best 
half and generally wholly asleep. It is a great mistake 
to withdraw from such an institution the healthy breeze 
of public criticism ; besides this, people never appreciate 
what is wholly given to them so highly as that to which 
they themselves contribute. 

Wolverhampton is a go-ahead city (I note a strong 
Scotch element there). A fine park, recently acquired 
and laid out with taste, shows that the physical well- 
being of the people is not lost sight of. The admin- 
istration of our friend ex-Mayor D. is to be credited 
with this invaluable acquisition. Mr. D. took the 
most prominent part in the matter, and having suc- 
ceeded he can consider the park his own estate. It is 
not in any sense taken away from him, nor one of its 
charms lessened, because his fellow-citizens share its 
blessings. Indeed as I strolled through it with him I 



160 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 

thought the real sense of ownership must be sweeter 
from the thousands of his fellows whom we saw rejoic- 
ing within it than if he were indeed the lordly owner in 
fee and rented it for revenue. This whole subject of 
meum and tuum needs reconsideration. If Burns, when 
he held his plough in joy upon the mountain-side and 
saw what he saw, felt what he felt, was not more truly 
the real possessor of the land than the reputed nominal 
landlord, then I do not grasp the subject. There are 
woeful blunders made as to the ownership of things. 
Who owns the treasures of the Sunderland or Hamilton 
libraries ? and who will shed the tears over their disper- 
sion, think you, chief mourner by virtue of deepest loss, 
the titled dis-graces, in whose names they stand, or the 
learned librarian whose days have been spent in holy 
companionship with them ? It is he who has made 
them his own, drawn them from their miserable owners 
into his heart. I tell you a man cannot be the real 
owner of a library or a picture gallery without a title 
from a much higher tribunal than the law. Nor a horse 
either, for that matter. Who owns your favorite horse? 
Test it ! I say the groom does. Call Habeeb or Rod- 
erick. So slow their response ! I won't admit they 
don't know and like me too. John knows my weakness 
and stands out of sight and lets me succeed slowly with 
them ; but after that, see at one word from him how 
they prick up their ears and neigh, dance in their boxes, 
push their grand heads under his arm, and say as plainly 



Sister Dora. 161 

as can be, "This is our man." I'm only a sleeping 
partner with John in them after all. It's the same all 
through ; go to your dogs, or out to your flocks, and see 
every sheep, and even the little lambs, the cows with 
their kind, glowering eyes, the chickens, and every liv- 
ing thing run from you to throng round the hand that 
feeds them. There is no real purchase in money, you 
must win friendship and ownership in the lower range 
of life with kindness, companionship, love ; the coin of 
the realm is not legal tender with Trust, or Habeeb, or 
Brownie, nor with any of the tribe. 

Let us not forget to chronicle a visit paid to Wal- 
sall, the scene of Sister Dora's labors. It is only seven 
miles from Wolverhampton in the very heart of the black 
country. Dr. T. drove us out to the crowded smoky 
town, and we followed him through the hospital and 
heard from the officials many interesting stories of that 
wonderful woman. Our friend the Doctor also knew 
her well. She has been known to rush through a crowd 
and separate brutal men who were fighting. The most 
debased of that ignorant mining and iron manufacturing 
population seemed under her influence to an incredible 
degree ; but then her sympathy and her tender devo- 
tion to every human being in distress were no doubt 
the secret of her power. A desperate case was brought 
into the hospital late one night. The physicians pro- 
nounced his recovery hopeless, but Sister Dora was not 
satisfied ; indeed, she seemed to feel instinctively that 



1 62 Four-in-Hand in Britai7i. 

the man had still a chance. She told the physicians to 
leave him, as she felt that they could do little good 
after they had given up hope, and took charge of the 
case herself. She told the poor wretch that she was 
going to stand by him all night and bring him through ; 
and having faith herself she inspired it in the patient, 
and the result was that she actually saved the man's 
life. Here is the very material for a saint. Had this 
occurred a few generations ago, or were it to occur in 
some parts of Italy to-day, Saint Dora would surely be 
added to the calendar, and why not ! Let us dispute 
over the miraculous and supernatural as we may, who 
will deny that the faith of this noble woman and the 
faith transmitted from her sympathetic heart to the 
poor sufferer were the foundation upon which his re- 
covery was built up ? 

This incident gave rise to a discussion upon the 
coach one day as to the influence of faith in one's abil- 
ity to do certain things affecting the result. The man 
who goes in to win may win : the one who goes in to 
lose can't win. So far all were agreed. Some of our 
party were disposed to lament the lack of faith which 
characterizes this age. " There are no Abrahams now- 
a-days," said one. " What would you do, Tom, if you 
should receive a message commanding you to offer up 
your son upon the altar?" "Well," said Tom, who 
was a telegraph operator in his early days, " I think I 
should first ask to have that message repeated." All 



English Hospitality. 163 

right. So would we all of us. Still there is a wide 
province for faith. If it does not exactly remove 
mountains now a days, it at least enables us to tunnel 
them, which is much the same thing as far as prac- 
tical results are concerned. 

We can tell you nothing of the hotels of Wolver- 
hampton, but the fourteen of us can highly recommend 
certain quarters where it was our rare privilege to be 
honored guests. Whether the English eat and drink 
more than the Americans may be a debatable question, 
but they certainly do so oftener. The young ladies 
quartered at Newbridge reported this the only bar to 
perfect happiness ; they never wanted to leave the gar- 
den for meals nor to remain so long at table. As the 
Prima Donna reported, they " just sound a gong and 
spring luncheons and teas and suppers on you." The 
supper is an English institution, even more sacred than 
the throne, and destined to outlive it. You cannot 
escape it, and to tell the truth, after a little you have no 
wish to do so. There is much enjoyment at supper, and 
in Scotland this is the toddy-time, and who would miss 
that hour of social glee ! 

Mention must be made of the private theatricals at 
Merridale and of the amateur concert at Clifton House, 
both highly creditable to the talented performers and 
productive of great pleasure to the guests. I find a 
programme of the latter and incorporate it as part of 
the record : 



JUNE 2gTH, 1881. 



Pianoforte Duet . . "Oberon " 

Misses A. J. B. and A. C. B. 
Song . . . . . . "Twenty-one" 

Miss S. D. 
Song "The Raft" 

Mr. B. P. 

Ladies' Trio . . "O Skylark, for thy wing" . . 

The Misses B. and Miss D. 
Song . . . . " A Summer Shower " . . 

Miss D. 
Song . . . . " The Better Land " . . 
Miss M. B. 

Song . . . . " The Lost Chord " 

Miss P. 

Pianoforte Solo . . "La Cascade" 

Miss A. D. 
SONG . . . . " Let me dream again " . . 

Miss R. 

SONG . . .... "The Diver" 

Mr. A. B. 

Song . . . . " My Nannie's awa' " . . 

Miss J. J. 
Duet . . " When the Wind blows in from the Sea " 
Miss M. B. and Mr. B. P. 

Song . . . . " For ever and for ever" . . 

Miss A. J. B. 
Song . . . . " The Boatswain's Story" . . 

Mr. B. P. 



Rene Favayer 
. . Molloy 
. . Pinsziti 
. . Smart 
Marziales 
. . Cowen 

Sullivan 
. . Patter 

Sullivan 
. . Loder 



. . Smart 
Paolo Tosti 
. . Molloy 



GOD SAVE THE QUEEN. 



Private Theatricals. 165 

A great many fine compliments have been paid to 
performers in this world, but do you remember one 
much better than this ? Our Prima Donna sang " My 
Nannie's awa'," my favorite among twenty favorites; 
and she did sing it that night to perfection. We were 
all proud of her. When she returned to her seat next 
to M., there was whispered in her ear: "Oh, Jeannie, 
the lump's in my throat yet ! " All the hundred warm 
expressions bestowed upon her did not weigh as much 
as that little gem of a tribute. When you raise the 
lump in the throat by a song you are upon the right 
key and have the proper style, even if your teacher has 
been no other than your own heart, the most important 
teacher of all. 

After the theatricals at Merridale came the feast. 
The supper-table comes before me, and the speeches. 
The orator of the Wolverhampton connection is ex- 
Mayor B. He speaks well, and never did he appear to 
greater advantage than on that evening. It's a sight 
"gude for sair een" to see a good-natured, kindly Eng- 
lish gentleman presiding at the festive board, surrounded 
by his children and his children's children, and the 
family connections to the number of seventy odd. 
They are indeed a kindly people, but oh dear ! those 
who have never been out of their little island, even the 
most liberal of them, have such queer, restricted notions 
about the rest of mankind ! This, however, is only 
natural ; travel is in one sense the only possible educator. 



1 66 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

England has been so far ahead of the world until the 
present generation, that it is difficult for her sons to 
believe she is sleeping too long. The best speech of 
the evening upon our side was made by Our Pard, who 
said he felt that after he had forgotten all else about 
this visit, the smiling faces of the pretty, rosy-cheeked 
English young ladies he had been admiring ever since 
he came to Wolverhampton, and never more ardently 
than this evening, would still haunt his thoughts; and 
then, with more emphasis, he closed with these memor- 
able words: " And I tell you, if ever young men ask me 
where they can find the nicest, sweetest, prettiest, and 
best young ladies for wives, they won't have to ask 
twice." (Correct ! shake, Pard !) 

We were fortunate in seeing the statue of Mr. Vil- 
liers unveiled. Earl Granville spoke with rare grace 
and ease, his style being so far beyond that of the other 
speakers that they suffered by comparison. The sledge- 
hammer style of oratory is done. Let ambitious 
youngsters make a note of that, and no longer strut and 
bellow, and tear a passion all to tatters, to very rags. 
Shakespeare understood it : 

" In the very tempest and I may say whirlwind of your passion, 
You must beget a temperance to give it utterance." 

The effort now making throughout Great Britain to 
provide coffee-houses as substitutes for the numerous 
gin palaces has not been neglected in Wolverhampton. 



Coffee Houses. 167 

The Coffee House Company which operates in the city 
and neighborhood has now fourteen houses in success- 
ful operation, and, much to my astonishment and grati- 
fication, I learned that seven and a half per cent, divi- 
dends were declared and about an equal amount of profit 
reserved for contingencies. In Birmingham there are 
twenty houses, and cash dividends of ten per cent, per 
annum have been made. If they can be generally made 
to pay even half as well, a grand advance has been made 
in the war against intemperance. I visited one of the 
houses with ex-Mayor D., who, I rejoice to say, is Chair- 
man of the Company, and in this great office does more 
for the cause than a thousand loud-mouthed orators 
who only denounce the evil about which we are all 
agreed, but have no plan to suggest for overcoming it. 
It is so easy to denounce and tear down; but try to 
build up once and see what slow, discouraging labor is 
involved. 

The prices in these coffee-houses are very low : one 
large cup of good tea, coffee, or cocoa, at the counter, 
id. (2 cents) ; one sandwich, id. (2 cents). If taken up- 
stairs in a room at a table, one-half more. 

There is a reading-room with newspapers free, baga- 
telle-table, and comfortable sitting-rooms ; also a ladies' 
room and a lavatory, and cigars, tobacco, and all non- 
alcoholic drinks are provided. Men go there at night 
to read and to play games. The company has been 
operating for three years, and the business increases 



1 63 Foitr-in~Hand in Britain. 

steadily. We saw similar houses in most of the towns 
we passed, and wished them God-speed. 

A chairman of a company like this has it in his power 
to do more good for the masses, who are the people of 
England, than if he occupied his time as member of 
Parliament ; but the English exalt politics unduly and 
waste the lives of their best men disputing over prob- 
lems which the more advanced Republicans have settled 
long ago and cleared out of their way. They will learn 
better by and by. We must not be impatient. They 
are a slow race and prone to makeshifts politically. 

A delegation of the Charioteers passed a happy day 
visiting one of the celebrated homes of England, Bilton 
Grange, near Rugby, the residence of Mr. John Lan- 
caster, whom Americans will remember as the owner 
of the yacht " Deerhound," who rescued Commander 
Semmes, when the " Kearsarge " swept the infamous 
"Alabama" from the seas. Mr. Lancaster showed us the 
pistols presented to him by the Confederate Officer as 
token of gratitude. This seems like ancient history 
already, so rapidly has the Rebellion and all thoughts 
thereof faded away. Jefferson Davis goes to and fro 
exciting no remark, arousing some pity. Had he been 
invested with the crown of martyrdom, how different 
would be the feeling of his people to-day! It is with 
Davis as with the deserter of whom Hon. Daniel J. Mor- 
rell tells: He took the mother of the runaway to see 
President Lincoln, in Washington, to plead for the life 



Lincohi and the Deserter. 169 

of her darling boy, who had been court-martialed and 
was to be shot in a few days. Lincoln first upbraided my 
friend for subjecting him to such an ordeal, but the poor 
woman was already in the room, sobbing as if her heart 
would break, and there was no help for it. Lincoln 
conducted her to a seat, asked a great many questions, 
learned that the boy had returned to work at Johnstown, 
and provided for his mother and sister from his earnings, 
giving as an excuse for leaving the army, that it was 
lying idle on the banks of the Potomac and he knew it 
could not move until spring. 

The President mused a few moments, apparently un- 
decided what action to take. Even the woman held her 
breath for the time and awaited in silence the word 
which was to rejoice her or doom her to misery forever. 
"Well, I don't believe it would do him any good to 
shoot him, do you, madam?" asked Father Abraham of 
the mother, in a tone of inquiry so natural that one 
would have thought he was actually in doubt upon the 
subject himself and wanted the opinion of the person 
who knew the boy best. 

The mother was speechless. During the inquiry the 
President had been rolling a small strip of paper into a 
ball. He handed this to Mr. Morrell, saying : " Read 
that when you get out, Daniel, but mind you don't tell 
Stanton." 

Mr. Morrell beckoned the woman to the door, placed 
her in the carriage, read the slip, and ordered the coach- 



170 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

man to drive at once to the office of the Provost Mar- 
shal. Here is what he found in that tiny strip : " P.M. 
Washington — Send Private Johnston, Company B, 9th 
Penn. Infantry, to his regiment. A. L." 

That is the kind of thing that took our trusting 
hearts and gave this wood-chopper of Illinois such 
power as all the hereditary monarchs of the world can 
never hope to acquire. Just so with Jefferson Davis : — 
it wouldn't do anybody any good to shoot him. Happy 
America ! strong enough to laugh at all powers which 
talk of assailing you. 

In driving to and from Bilton Grange, we passed 
famous Rugby and talked of our favorite Tom Brown. 
What a sad pity that Mr. Hughes was carried away by 
the fascinations of a scheme for transplanting gentle- 
manly Englishmen to the Rugby colony in Tennessee ! 
It was foredoomed to failure, and to much heart-burn- 
ing and recrimination. Of all men in the world, your 
well-educated young Englishman is least adapted for 
such a life as Tennessee has to offer. Had the West 
or North-west been selected, the result should have been 
different so far as pecuniary considerations are con- 
cerned, for even poor management there could not have 
kept the land from rising in value. The stream of emi- 
gration from the older States to the new might have 
told these men where to go ; but it seems that when- 
ever foreigners attempt to do anything in America 
through an organization, their first thought is how to 



Moral for Englishmen. 171 

do it in a manner as far as possible from that of the 
Americans. The consequence is, they generally lose 
their money. Moral for our English cousins : " When 
in America do as the Americans do." If they settle in 
Iowa do you go and sit down beside them there. And 
to my iron and steel friends in this little island, just 
one word : If Americans are not overpoweringly anx- 
ious to develop the wonderful resources, say of Ala- 
bama, for instance, just you take Rip Van Winkle's plan 
" go home and t'ink about it jest a leetle " before you 
undertake the task. These Americans do not know 
everything, of course, but it is just possible they may 
know something about their own country. 

" Nae man can tether time nor tide, 
The hour approaches, Tarn maun ride.'* 

Our six days at Wolverhampton had passed rapidly 
away in one continual round of social pleasures, and 
now we were off again to fresh fields and pastures new. 
The horn sounds. We call the roll once more. Mr. B., 
Senior, had left us at Windsor, but the Junior B. he sent 
us fitly represented the family. If he couldn't tell as 
many funny stories nor quote as much poetry as his 
sire, the young Cambridge wrangler could sing college 
songs and give our young ladies many glimpses of 
young England. He was a great favorite was Theodore 
(young Obadiah). 

Miss B. and he left us at Banbury, much to our re- 



172 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

gret, but London engagements were imperative. Mr. 
and Mrs. K. arrived. If ever a couple received a warmer 
welcome I never saw nor heard of it. It seemed as if 
we had been separated for years, and how often during 
our journey had one or another of the party regretted 
that Aggie and Aaleck were missing all this. 

It was upon the ocean that Ben and Davie conceived 
the idea that a run to Paris would be advisable. Leave 
of absence for two week was accordingly granted to 
four— Mr. and Mrs. McC, Miss J. and Mr. V. 

We bade them good-bye at Wolverhampton, Thurs- 
day, June 30th, and saw them fairly off, not without 
tears upon both sides from the weaker sex. These 
partings are miserable things always. Their places were 
taken by Miss J. R. (a Dunfermline bairn), Miss A. B., 
and Mr. D. Next morning we gathered the clans at 
Mr. G.'s, calling at the houses of several other friends 
for the contingent they had so kindly entertained ; 
thence to Merridale for the remainder and the final 
start. 

It was a sight to see the party on the lawn there as 
we drove off, giving three hearty cheers for Wolver- 
hampton. In special honor of the head of the clan 
there, the master of Merridale, we had just sung " For 
he is an Englishman." Yes, he is the Englishman all 
over. Our route for many miles was still in the black 
country, but near Lichfield we reached again the rural 
beauties of England. How thankful to get away once 



Lichfield Cathedral. 173 

more from the dirt and smoke and bustle of manufac- 
tories ! 

The new members had not gone far before they 
exhibited in an aggravated form all the usual signs of 
the mania which had so seriously affected all who have 
ever mounted our coach. The older members derived 
great pleasure from seeing how completely the recent 
acquisitions were carried away. Their enthusiasm knew 
no bounds, and we drove in to the Swan at Lichfield 
brimful of happiness. We had left Wolverhampton 
about noon, the stage for the day being a short one, 
only twenty miles. 



Lichfield, July i. 

The cathedral deserves a visit, out of the way of 
travel as it is. Its three spires and its chapter house 
are the finest we have yet seen ; and then Chantrey's 
sleeping children is worth travelling hundreds of miles 
to see. Never before has marble been made to express 
the childish sleep of innocence as this does. 

It was strange that I should stumble upon a monu- 
ment in the cathedral to Major Hodson, whose grave I 
had seen in India. He lies with Havelock and Law- 
rence in the pretty little English cemetery at Lucknow, 
poor fellow, and here his friends and neighbors away in 
quiet Lichfield have commemorated his valor. 

How well do I remember my visit to that historic 
burial place in far off India and the impression made 
upon me as I stood beside the tombs of the heroes who 



174 Four -in- Hand in Britain. 

fell in the days of the great mutiny ! The inscription 
on Lawrence's is : " Here lies Henry Lawrence, who 
tried to do his duty." What could you add that would 
not weaken that ? 

We talked, standing by Hodson's monument, of the 
long struggle and the relief at Lucknow, and of what I 
had written of it in my " Notes of a Trip round the 
World." As it pleased the Charioteers, perhaps I may 
be pardoned for quoting a part of it. 

" Our first visit was to the ruins of the Residency, 
where for six long months Sir Henry Lawrence and his 
devoted band were shut up and surrounded by fifty 
thousand armed rebels. The grounds, which I should 
say are about thirty acres in extent, were fortunately 
encompassed by an earthern rampart six feet in height. 
You need not be told of the heroic resistance of the two 
regiments of British soldiers and one of natives, nor of 
the famous rescue. Hour after hour, day after day, 
week after week, and month after month, the three 
hundred women and children, shut in a cellar under 
ground, watched and prayed for the sound of Have- 
lock's bugles, but it came not. Hope, wearied out at 
last, had almost given place to despair. Through the 
day the attacks of the infuriated mob could be seen and 
repelled, but who was to answer that as darkness fell the 
wall was not to be pierced at some weak point of the 
extended line ? One officer in command of a critical 
point failing — not to do his duty, there was never a fear 



Jessie of Luc know. 175 

of that — but failing to judge correctly of what the oc- 
casion demanded, and the struggle was over. Death 
Was the last of the fears of those poor women night 
after night as the days rolled slowly away. One night 
there was graver silence than usual in the room ; all 
were despondent and lay resigned to their seemingly 
impending fate. No rescue came, nor any tidings of 
relief. In the darkness one piercing scream was heard 
from the narrow window. A Highland nurse had clam- 
bered up to gaze through the bars and strain her ears 
once more. The cooling breeze of night blew in her 
face and wafted such music as she could not stay to 
hear. One spring to the ground, a clapping of hands 
above her head, and such a shriek as appalled her sisters 
who clustered around ; but all she could say between 
the sobs — ' The slogan ! the slogan ! ' Few knew 
what the slogan was. ' Didna ye hear ? Didna ye 
hear ? ' cried the almost demented girl, and then listen- 
ing one moment that she might not be deceived, she 
muttered, ' It's the Macgregors Gathering, the grandest 
o' them a',' and fell senseless to the ground. 

" Truly, my lassie, the ' grandest o' them a',' for never 
came such strains before to mortal ears. And so Jessie 
of Lucknow takes her place in history as one of the 
finest themes for painter, dramatist, poet, or historian, 
henceforth and forever. I have some hesitation whether 
the next paragraph in my note-book should go down 
here or be omitted. Probably it would be in better 



176 Four-in- Hand in Britain. 

taste if quietly ignored, but then it would be so finely 
natural if put in. Well, I shall be natural or nothing, 
and recount that I could not help rejoicing that Jessie 
was Scotch, and that Scotchmen first broke the rebel 
lines and reached the fort, and that the bagpipes led the 
way. That's all. I feel better now that this also is set 
down." 

In Lichfield cathedral are seven veiy fine stained- 
glass windows which were found stowed away in a 
farm-house in Belgium, and purchased by an English 
gentleman for £200, and now they rank among the most 
valuable windows in the world. What a pity that the 
treasures wantonly destroyed during the Reformation 
had not found similar shelter, to be brought from their 
hiding-places once more to delight us ! 

We heard service Saturday morning, and mourned 
over the waste of exquisite music — twenty-six singers in 
the choir and only ten persons to listen in the vast 
cathedral, besides our party. It is much the same 
throughout England. In no case during week days did 
we ever see as many persons in the congregation as in 
the choir. Surely the impressive cathedrals of England 
are capable of being put to better uses than this. It 
seems a sin to have such choirs and not conduct them 
in some way to reach and elevate greater numbers. In 
no building would an oratorio sound so well. Why 
should not these choirs be made the nucleus for a cho- 
rus in every district, and let us have music which would 



Church Music. 177 

draw the masses within the sacred walls ? But maybe 
this would be sacrilegious. Theological minds may see 
in the music suggested an unworthy intruder in do- 
mains sacred to dogma ; but they should remember that 
the Bible tells us that in heaven music is the principal 
source of happiness — the sermon seems nowhere — and 
it may go hard with such as fail to give it the first place 
on earth. In this view of the case it was decided to-day 
upon the coach that what some had hitherto thought a 
scandal, viz., that the choirs of most of our fashionable 
churches cost more than all the other expenses of the 
church, and that organists and sopranos receive a much 
larger salary considering the time given than the minis- 
ters ; or, as one of the young ladies put it, " More is 
paid for music than for religion " — all this, instead of 
being reprehensible, as some have unthinkingly believed, 
may really be, and probably is, quite in accordance with 
the proper order of worship. Well, I am not going to 
grudge Miss B. her three thousand dollars a year any 
longer, said a vestryman ; so he was converted to the 
theory that music stands upon strong ground. Some 
day, however, my lord bishop and lazy crew, the cathe- 
drals of England will not be yours alone to drone in, 
but become mighty centres of grand music, from which 
shall radiate elevating influences over entire districts; 
and the best minds of the nation, remembering how 
narrow and bigoted the church was when these struct- 
ures were built, will change the poet's line and say : 



178 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

" To what great uses have they come at last ! " 

The world moves and the church establishment must 

move with it, or this is a splendid place to stop — 

there is as great virtue in your " or " as in your " if," 
sometimes. Here is the best description of service in 
an English cathedral : 

" And love the high embower'd roof, 
With antique pillars massy proof, 
And storied windows richly dight, 
Casting a dim religious light : 
There let the pealing organ blow, 
To the full voic'd choir below, 
In service high and anthems clear, 
As may with sweetness, through my ear, 
Dissolve me into ecstasies, 
And bring all heaven before mine eyes." 

The music at Lichfield does indeed draw you into 
regions beyond and intimates immortality, and we ex- 
claim with friend Izaak Walton, " Lord, what music 
hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when thou 
affordest bad men such music on earth ! " 

I remember that when in China I read that Confu- 
cius was noted for his intense passion for music. He 
said one day to his disciples that music not only ele- 
vates man while he is listening, but that to those 
who love it music is able to create distinct images which 
remain after the strains cease and keep the mind from 
base thoughts. Think of the sage knowing this when 



The Coach. 179 

he had probably only the sing-song Chinese fiddle to 
console him ! I forget, he had the gongs, and a set of 
fine gongs of different tones make most suggestive 
music, as I have discovered. 

The position of Lichfield Cathedral is peculiarly 
fine. Three sides of the square surrounding it are occu- 
pied by splendid ecclesiastical buildings connected with 
the diocese, including the bishop's palace. A beautiful 
sheet of water lies upon the lower side, so that nothing 
incongruous meets the eye. 

We obtained there a better idea of the magnitude 
of the church establishment and its to us seemingly 
criminal waste of riches than ever before. To think of 
all this power for good wasting itself upon a beggarly 
account of empty benches, the choir outnumbering the 
congregation ! 

We had ordered the coach to come and await us at 
the cathedral, but had not expected Perry to drive up 
to the very door. There the glittering equipage was, 
however, surrounded by groups of pretty, rosy children 
and many older people gazing respectfully. There is 
something about a well-appointed coach and four which 
is calculated to puff a man up with vanity. I remem- 
ber I had been absorbed in the service, and afterward in 
wandering about the cathedral had had my thoughts 
carried back to India. I was again in the crowded 
streets of Benares mounted upon the richly caparisoned 
elephants of the Rajah, and anon strolling upon the 



180 Four-in-Hand in Britam. 

Apollo Bunder in Bombay, one of a crowd the gorgeous 
coloring of which equals any scene ever given in grand 
opera. I reached the cathedral door in a kind of trance; 
the gay coach, the horses and their sparkling harness, 
and Joe and Perry in their livery burst upon me, and 
looking up and around I did feel that we were a 
" swell " party, and had ever so much to be thankful 
for. It is a source of never failing pleasure to stand 
and see the Charioteers mount the coach — they are all 
so happy, and I am " so glad they are glad." And so 
we mounted and drove off, taking a last fond look of 
grand old Lichfield. 



Dovedale, July 2-3. 

Our objective point was Dovedale, thirty miles dis- 
tant. When three miles out we stopped at Elmhurst 
Hall for Miss F., who had preceded us to pay a visit to 
Mr. and Mrs. F — x, who very kindly invited the party to 
dismount and lunch with them ; but the thirty miles to 
be done would not permit us the pleasure. The next 
time we pass, however, good master and mistress of 
Elmhurst Hall, you shall certainly have the Charioteers 
within your hospitable walls, if you desire it, for such an 
inviting place we have rarely seen. 

We were to lunch in Sudbury Park, the residence of 
Lord Vernon. This was the first grassy luncheon of 
the five new-comers, and we were all delighted to see 
their enjoyment of this most Arcadian feature of our 



Sztdbiiry Park. 181 

coaching life. It proved to be one of our pleasantest 
luncheons, for there is no finer spot in England than 
Sudbury Park. Of course it is not the glen nor the 
wimpling burn of the Highlands, but for quiet England 
it is superb. 

The site chosen was near a pretty brook. Before us 
was the old-fashioned brick Queen Anne mansion, and 
behind us in the park was a cricket ground, where a 
match between two neighboring clubs was being wor- 
thily contested. The scene was indeed idyllic. There was 
never more fun and laughter at any of our luncheons. 
Aaleck had to be repressed at last, for several of the 
members united in a complaint against him. Their 
sides ached, but that they did not mind so much ; their 
anxiety was about their cheeks, which were seriously 
threatened with an explosion if they attempted to eat. 
To avoid such results it was voted that no one should 
make a joke nor even a remark. Silence was enjoined ; 
but what did that amount to ! The signs and grimaces 
were worse than speech. Force was no remedy. It 
took time to get the party toned down, but eventually 
the lunch was finished. 

We strolled over and watched the cricketers. It all 
depends upon how you look at a thing. So many able- 
bodied perspiring men knocking about a little ball on a 
warm summer's clay, that is one way; so many men 
relieved from anxious care and laying the foundation 
for long years of robust health by invigorating exercise 



1 82 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

in the open air, that is the other view of the question. 
The ancients did not count against our little span of 
life the days spent in the chase ; neither need we charge 
those spent in cricket ; and as for our sport, coaching, 
for every day so spent we decided that it and another 
might safely be credited. He was a very wise prime 
minister who said he had often found important duties 
for which he had not time ; one duty, however, he had 
always made time for, his daily afternoon ride on horse- 
back. Your always busy man accomplishes little ; the 
great doer is he who has plenty of leisure. The man at 
the helm turns the wheel now and then, and so easily 
too, touching an electric bell ; it's the stoker down be- 
low who is pitching into it with his coat off. And look 
at Captain McMicken promenading the deck in his 
uniform and a face like a full moon ; quite at his ease 
and ready for a story. And there is Johnnie Watson, 
chief engineer, who rules over the throbbing heart of 
the ship; he is standing there prepared for a crack. 
Moral : Don't worry yourself over work, hold yourself 
in reserve, and sure as fate, " it will all come right in 
the wash." 

Leaving the contestants, we walked down to the lake 
in front of the mansion, and with our usual good for- 
tune we were just in time to see the twenty acres of 
ornamental water dragged for pike, which play such 
havoc with other fish. The water had been drained 
into a small pond, which seemed alive with bewildered 



Adam and Eve. 183 

fish. We sat and watched with quiet interest the men 
drawing the net. Hundreds were caught at every haul, 
from which the pike were taken. A tremendous eel 
gave the men a lively chase ; three or four times it es- 
caped, wriggled through their legs and hands one after 
the other, and made for the water. Had the game- 
keeper not succeeded in pinning it to the ground with 
a pitchfork, the eel would have beaten the whole 
party. 

Lord Vernon's park is rich in attractions. An old 
narrow picturesque arched bridge, which spans the pret- 
ty lake, has a statue of Adam at one end and Eve at 
the other. Over the former the ivy clusters so thickly 
as to make our great prototype a mass of living green ; 
poor Eve has been less favored, for she is in a pitiable 
plight for a woman, with " nothing to wear." 

But Eve was not used to kind treatment. Adam was 
by no means a modern model husband, and never gave 
Eve anything in excess except blame. Here she is still, 
the Flora McFlimsy of my friend William Allen Butler 
(minus the flora as I have said) ; but let her be patient, 
her dress is sure to come, for kind nature in England 
abhors nakedness. She is ever at work clothing every- 
thing with her mantle of green. 

" Ever and ever bringing secrets forth, 
It sitteth in the green of forest glades 
Nursing strange seedlings at the cedar's root, 
Devising leaves, blooms, blades. 



184 Four-in-Hand i?i Britain. 

This is its touch upon the blossomed rose, 
The fashion of its hand-shaped lotus leaves ; 
In dark soil and the silence of the seeds 
The robe of Spring it weaves." 

We had rare enjoyment at the lake, and envied Lord 
Vernon his princely heritage. The old forester who 
once showed me over a noble estate in Scotland was 
quite right. I was enchanted with one of the views, 
and repeated. 

" Where is the coward who would not dare 
To fight for such a land ! " 

"Aye," said the old man, "aye, it's a grand country, 
for the lairds!' It will be a grander country some day 
when it is less " for the lairds " and more for the toiling 
masses ; but may the destroying angel of progress look 
kindly upon such scenes of beauty as Sudbury Park. 
The extensive estate may be disentailed and cultivated 
by a thousand small owners in smiling homes, with edu- 
cated children within them, and the land bring forth 
greater harvests touched by the magic wand of the 
sense of ownership — for it makes an infinite difference 
to call a thing your own — and yet the mansion and park 
remain intact and give to its possessor rarer pleasures 
than at present. I think one of the greatest drawbacks 
to life in Britain in grand style must be the contrast 
existing between the squire and the people about him. 
It is bad enough even in Chester Valley, where the 
average condition and the education of the inhabitants 



Horseback Riding. 185 

are probably equal to any locality in the world, but in 
England it is far too marked for comfort, I should 
think. 

While we were still lingering on the banks of the lake 
Perry's horn sounded from the main road to call us 
from the enchanting scene, and we were off for Dove- 
dale through pretty Ashbourne. 

As we bowled along the conversation turned upon 
horseback riding, and some one quoted the famous 
maxim, " the outside of a horse for the inside of a 
man." " But what about a woman?" asked F. "Oh," 
answered Puss, " the outside of a horse for the inside 
of a woman and the outside as well, for in no other 
position can a woman ever possibly look so captivating 
as on a horse. Girls who ride in the park have double 
chances." A voice from the front — " You are right." 
Our Pard there admits that he had no idea of falling in 
love with Annie until he saw her on horseback ; and 
when he had ridden with her a few times he was con- 
quered. A woman looks her loveliest on horseback. 

" That is not Mrs. Parr's opinion," rejoined a young 
lady on the front seat. " I think it is in her splendid ' Dor- 
othy Fox ' she says that a woman never shows so clearly 
the angel of beauty which dwells in a good woman's 
heart as when she murmurs her yes to her lover." 

" Oh, that's not fair," came from the back row. 
" That's too short, only a moment ; and besides only one 
man sees it. That doesn't count. We mean that a 



1 86 Fottr-in-Hand in Britain. 

woman shows off better on horseback than anywhere 
else." 

"Oh!" said the cynic, "is that it, Miss? Nothing 
counts without the showing off, ch ! " And so we rattled 
on interrupted at intervals by exclamations called forth 
by England's unique beauty. 

Can any one picture a resting-place so full of peace 
and beauty as the old Izaak Walton Inn ? We arrived 
there in the twilight, and some of us walked down the 
long hill and got our first sight of the Dove from the 
bridge at the foot across the stream. 

I got the memorable verses near enough from mem- 
ory to repeat them on the bridge. Let me put them 
down here, for in truth, simple as they are, who is going 
to predict the coming of the day when they will cease 
to be prized as one of the gems of literature? 

" She dwelt among- the untrodden ways, 
Beside the springs of Dove, 
A maid whom there were none to praise, 
And very few to love. 

" A violet by a mossy stone, 
Half hidden from the eye ; 
Fair as a star when only one 
Is shining in the sky. 

" She lived unknown, and few could know 
When Lucy ceased to be ; 
But she is in her grave, and oh, 
The difference to me ! " 



Ham Hall. 187 

But think of dear old Izaak and of his fishing ex- 
cursions to this very spot. He actually stayed at our 
inn ! He too is secure of his position as the author of 
a classic for as long a time as we care to look forward 
to. Is it not strange that no one has ever imitated this 
man's unique style ? " God leads us not to heaven 
by many nor by hard questions," says the fisherman, 
and he knew a thing or two. There is a flavor about 
him peculiarly his own, but especially rich when read in 
this old inn, sacred to his memory. I enjoyed him with 
a fresh relish during the few hours of Sunday which I 
could devote to him, for there is a good sermon in many 
a sentence of the " Complete Angler." Dear old boy, 
your place in my library and in my heart too is secure. 

Ham Hall, near the inn, is the great place, and there 
is a pretty little church within a stone's throw of it. 
We walked over on Sunday morning and saw the squire 
come into church with his family and take his seat among 
his people, for I take it most of the congregation were 
connected with the hall. The parson, no doubt, was the 
appointee of the squire, and we tried to estimate the im- 
portance of these two men in the district, their duties and 
influence — both great — for to a large extent the moral 
as well as the material well-being of a community in rural 
England depends upon the character of the hall and par- 
sonage. The squire was Mr. Hanbury, M.P., who cour- 
teously invited our party to visit the hall after service, 
and to stroll as we pleased through his grounds. He had 



1 88 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

been in America, and knew our erratic genius and brother 
iron-master Abram S. Hewitt. In the evening we re- 
ceived from him some fine photographs of the hall (a 
truly noble one), which we prize highly. The accom- 
panying note was even more gratifying, for it said that 
he had been so warmly received in America that it was 
always a pleasure when opportunity offered to show 
Americans such attentions as might be in his power. It 
is ever thus, cold indifference between the two English- 
speaking branches is found only among the stay-at- 
homes. The man who knows from personal experience 
the leading characteristics of the people upon both sides 
of the ferry is invariably a warm and sincere friend. 
The two peoples have only to become acquainted to be- 
come enthusiastic over each other's rare qualities. 

This is a sheep-grazing district, quite hilly, and the 
rainfall is much beyond the average ; but the weather 
question troubles us little ; the Charioteers carry sun- 
shine within and without. Our afternoon walk was 
along the Dove, which we followed up the glen between 
the hills for several miles, finding new beauties at every 
turn. Mr. H. has the stream on his estate reserved for 
five miles for his own fishing, but our landlord said he 
was very generous and always gave a gentleman a day's 
sport when properly applied for. We were offered free 
range by Mr. H., a privilege which Davie and I hold in 
reserve for a future day, that we may most successfully 
conjure the shade of our congenial brother of the angle; 



Izaak Walton. 189 

" for you are to note," saith he, " that we anglers all love 
one another." We at least all love Izaak Walton, " an 
excellent angler and now with God." Reading the in- 
genious defence of fishing by our author, " an honest 
man and a most excellent fly-fisher," is not waste time 
in these days of violent anti-vivisectionists, who have 
seen poor hares chased down for sport all their lives, 
and their Prince shoot pigeons from a trap without a 
protest, but who effect to feel pity for a cat sacrificed 
upon the holy altar of science. Miserable hypocrites, 
who swallow so large a camel and strain at so very 
small a gnat ! It shows what demoralization is brought 
about in good people by rank and fashion ; one rule for 
the Prince who disgraces himself by cruel sports, another 
for the medical student who exalts himself working for 
the good of his race. 

But to quaint Izaak's defence ; and first as to the fish 
themselves. 

" Nay, the increase of these creatures that are bred 
and fed in water is not only more and more miraculous, 
but more advantageous to man, not only for the length- 
ening of his life, but for the preventing of sickness ; for 
'tis observed by the most learned physicians that the 
casting off of Lent and other fish days hath doubtless 
been the chief cause of those many putrid, shaking, in- 
termitting agues into which this nation of ours is now 
more subject than those wiser countries which feed on 
herbs, salads, and plenty of fish. And it is fit to re- 



190 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

member that Moses (Levit. II: 9; Deut. 14; 9) ap- 
pointed fish to be the chief diet for the best common- 
wealth that ever yet was ; and it is observable not only 
that there are fish, as namely the whale, three times as 
big as the mighty elephant that is so fierce in battle, 
but that the mightiest feasts have been of fish." 

Is not that capital? It calls to mind Josh Billings' 
answer to his correspondent who wrote saying that he 
had heard many times that a fish diet was most favor- 
able for increase of brain power, but he had never been 
able to find out the best kind of fish for the purpose. 
Could he inform him? "In your case," replied Josh, 
" try a whale or two." 

Here is Izaak's argument for the lawfulness of fish- 
ing: 

"And for the lawfulness of fishing it may very well 
be maintained by our Saviour's bidding St. Peter cast 
his hook into the water and catch a fish for money to 
pay tribute to Caesar. And it is observable that it was 
our Saviour's will that four fishermen should have a 
priority of nomination in the catalogue of his twelve 
disciples (Matt. 10: 2, 4, 13), as namely: St. Peter, St. 
Andrew, St. James, and St. John, and then the rest in 
their order. And it is yet more observable that when 
our blessed Saviour went up into the mount when he 
left the rest of his disciples and chose only three to 
bear him company at his transfiguration, that those 
three were all fishermen ; and it is to be believed that 



Fishing. 191 

all the other apostles after they betook themselves to 
follow Christ, betook themselves to be fishermen too : 
for it is certain that the greater number of them were 
found together fishing by Jesus after his resurrection, 
as it is recorded in the 21st chapter of St. John's Gos- 
pel, v. 3, 4. This was the employment of these happy 
fishermen, concerning which choice some have made 
these observations : first that he never reproved these 
for their employment or calling as he did the scribes 
and the money-changers ; and secondly, he found that 
the hearts of such men were fitted for contemplation 
and quietness, men of mild, and sweet, and peaceable 
spirits, as indeed most anglers are ; these men our 
blessed Saviour, who is observed to love to plant grace 
in good natures, though indeed nothing be too hard for 
him, yet these men he chose to call from their irreprov- 
able employment of fishing and gave them grace to be 
his disciples and to follow him and do wonders. I say 
four of twelve." 

There I think we may safely rest the defence of our 
favorite sport, especially upon secondly ; for it is all 
very well to say animals must be slain that we may live, 
and yet it does not give one a high idea of the fineness 
of the man who chooses the occupation of a butcher, 
and is happiest when he is killing something. Blood ! 
Iago, blood ! For my part, while recognizing the neces- 
sity that the sheep should bleat for the lamb slain that I 
may feast, I don't profess to see that the arrangement 



192 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

is anything to rave over as an illustration of the wisdom 
or the goodness of God. Let us eat, asking no ques- 
tions, but trusting that some day we shall see clearly 
that all is well. Meanwhile I give up coursing, fox 
hunting, and pigeon shooting as unworthy sports, and 
never again will I kill a deer in sport. I once saw the 
mild, reproachful eyes of one turned upon me as it lay, 
wounded, as much as to say : " I am so sorry it was 
yon who did this." So was I, poor innocent thing. It 
is years since I saw that look, but it haunts me yet at 
intervals. It is one of the many things I have done for 
which I am ever sorry. 

Too much fishing ! It is no use to try to give you 
the good things of Izaak Walton, for it is with him as 
with Shakespeare. Two volumes of his " beauties " 
handed to gentle Elia. " This is all very well, my 
friend, but where are the other five volumes ? " We 
must get out of Dovedale — that is clear. Allons done ! 

Our stage to-day was to Chatsworth, twenty-four 
miles, where our Fourth of July dinner was to be cele- 
brated. As we passed Ham Hall we stopped, sounded 
our horn, and gave three cheers for the squire who had 
been so kind to his " American cousins." 

Our luncheon was beside the pretty brook at Youl- 
greaves, on the estate of the Duke of Rutland, and a 
beautiful trout-stream it is. We could see the speckled 
beauties darting about, and were quite prepared to be- 
lieve the wonderful stories told us of the basketfuls 



The Burnie. 193 

taken there sometimes. There is something infectious 
in a running stream. It is the prettiest thing in nature. 
Nothing adds so much to our midday enjoyment as one 
of these babbling brooks, 

" Making music o er the enamelled stones, 
And giving a gentle kiss to every sedge 
It overtaketh in its pilgrimage." 

If there be " sermons in stones," I think it must be 
when the pure water sings as it rushes over them. 

The Charioteers demanded that I should repeat 
" The Burnie, " a gem by a true poet, Ballantyne. 
Would you, my gentle reader, like also to know it? I 
think you would, for such as have followed me so far 
must have something akin to me and surely will some- 
times like what I like, and I like this much : 

" It drappit frae a gray rock upon a mossy stane, 
An doon amang the green grass it wandered lang alane. 
It passed the broomie knowe beyond the hunter's hill ; 
It pleased the miller's bairns an it ca'd their faether's mill. 

" But soon anither bed it had, where the rocks met aboon, 
And for a time the burnie saw neither sun nor moon. 
But the licht o* heaven cam' again, its banks grew green and fair. 
And many a bonnie flower in its season blossomed there ; 

*' And ither bumies joined till its rippling song was o'er, 
For the burn became a river ere it reached the ocean's shore. 
And the wild waves rose to greet it wi' their ain eerie croon, 
Working their appointed wark and never, never done. 
13 



194 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

" Nae sad repinings at the hardness o' their lot, 
Nae heart-burnings at what anither got ; 
The good or ill, the licht or shade, they took as it might be, 
Sae onward ran the burnie frae the gray rock to the sea." 

There's a moral for us ! There is always peace at the 
end if we do our appointed work and leave the result 
with the Unknown. Let us, then, follow Mrs. Brown- 
ing* 

" And like a cheerful traveller, take the road, 

Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread 
Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod 
To meet the flints ? — At least it may be said, 
' Because the way is short, I thank thee, God ! ' " 

And so at the sea the burnie's race was run and it 
found peace. Immensity gives peace always. It is so 
vain to strive in the presence of the ocean, for it tells of 
forces irresistible. It obeys its own laws, caring for 
nought : 

" Libel the ocean on its tawny sands, write verses 
In its praise ; the unmoved sea erases both alike. 
Alas for man ! unless his fellows can behold his deeds, 
He cares not to be great." 

Not so, O poet, when man stands on the shore and 
thinks, for then he feels his nothingness, and the ap- 
plause of his fellows is valued as so much noise merely, 
except as it serves as proof that he has stirred them 
for the right. This state lasts unless he lifts his eyes 
to the skies above the waste, and renews his vows to 
the Goddess of Duty. He learns, not in the depths 



Daft Callants. 195 

nor on the level of ocean's surface, but from higher and 
beyond — that life is worth living, then he takes up his 
task and goes on, saying 

" And whether crowned or crownless when I fall 

It matters not, so as God's work is done. 

I've learned to prize the quiet lightning deed — 

Not the applauding thunder at its heels 

Which men call fame.'* 

The Queen Dowager and Aggie were off to paidle in 
the burn after luncheon, and as a fitting close they kilted 
their petticoats and danced a highland reel on the green- 
sward, in sight of the company, but at some distance 
from us. They were just wee lassies again, and to be a 
wee lassie at seventy-one is a triumph indeed ; but, as 
the Queen Dowager says, that is nothing. She intends 
to be as daft for many years to come, for my grand- 
father was far older when he alarmed the auld wives of 
the village on Halloween night, sticking his false face 
through the windows. " Oh ! " said one, recovering 
from her fright, " it is just that daft callant, Andrew 
Carnegie ! " I remember one day, in Dunfermline, an 
old man in the nineties — a picture of withered eld, a few 
straight, glistening white hairs on each side of his head, 
and his nose and chin threatening each other — tottered 
across the room to where I was sitting, and laying his 
long, skinny hand upon my head, murmured : 

" An' ye're a gran'son o' Andrew Carnegie's ! Aye, 
maan, I've seen the day when your grandfaether an' me 



196 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

could have hallooed ony reasonable maan oot o' his 
judgment." 

I hope to be a daft callant at seventy-one — as daft as 
we all were that day. Indeed, we were all daft enough 
while coaching, but the Queen Dowager really ought to 
have been restrained a little. She went beyond all 
bounds, but life is an undoubted success if you can 
laugh till the end of it. 

Let me try to give an idea how this blessed England 
is crowded. Here is a signboard we stopped at to-day, 
to make sure we were taking the right way ; for, even 
with the Ordnance map upon one's knee, strict atten- 
tion is required or you will be liable to take the wrong 
turn. 

A voice from the General Manager : " Perry, stop at 
the post and let us be sure." 

" Right, sir." 

The post points four ways, east, west, north, and 
south. 

First arm reads as follows : Tissington, 3 ; Matlock 
Bath, 10; Chesterfield, 21. 

Second arm : Ashbourne, 3 ; Derby, 16 ; Kissington, 
19. 

Third arm : Dovedale, Okedon, Ham. 

Fourth arm : New Haven, 6; Buxton, 17; Bakewell, 
13 ; Chatsworth, 16. 

All this the guide-post said at one turn, and fortu- 
nate it was that Chatsworth, our destination, happened 



Tissington Hall. 197 

to be upon the fourth arm, for had the worthy road- 
surveyors not deemed it necessary to extend their in- 
formation beyond Bakewell, you see we might as well 
have consulted the Book of Days. 

The entrance to Tissington estate was near the post, 
and we were very kindly permitted to drive through, 
which it was said would save several miles and give us 
a view of another English hall. We managed, how- 
ever, to take a wrong turn somewhere, and added some 
eight miles to our journey ; so much the better — the 
longer the route the happier we were. 

Every English hall seems to have some special feat- 
ures in which it surpasses all others. This is as it 
should be, for it permits every fortunate owner to love 
his home for acknowledged merits of its own. If one 
has the nobler terrace, another boasts a finer lawn ; 
and if one has woods and a rookery, has not the other 
the winding Nith through its borders? One cannot 
have the best of everything, even upon an English es- 
tate ; neither can one life have the best possible of every- 
thing, 

" For every blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew." 

Let us, then, be thankful for our special mercies, 
and may all our ducks be swans, as friend Edward says 
mine are. 

Have you never had your friend praise his wife to you 
in moments of confidence, when you have been fishing 



198 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

for a week together? You wonder for a few moments, 
as you recall the Betsey or Susan he extols ; for, if the 
truth is to be spoken, you have, as it were, shed tears 
for him when you thought of his yoke. Well, that is 
the true way : let him make her a swan, even if she is 
not much of a duck. 

We stopped at Rowsley for Miss F., who was to come 
there by rail from Elmhurst Hall. She brought the Lon- 
don Times, which gave us the first news of the terrible 
catastrophe in Washington. We would not believe 
that the shot was to prove fatal. It did not seem pos- 
sible that President Garfield's career was to end in such 
a way ; but, do what we could, the great fear would not 
down, and we reached Chatsworth much depressed. 
Our Fourth of July was a sad one, and the intended 
celebration was given up. Fortunately, the news be- 
came more encouraging day after day, so much so that 
the coaching party ventured to telegraph its congratu- 
lations through Secretary Blaine, and it was not until 
we reached New York that we knew that a relapse had 
occurred. The cloud which came over us, therefore, 
had its silver lining in the promise of recovery and a 
return to greater usefulness than ever. 

We stopped to visit Haddon Hall upon our way to 
Chatsworth, but here we come upon tourists' ground. 
Every one does the sights of the neighborhood, and 
readers are therefore respectfully referred to the guide- 
books. We had our first dusty ride to-day, for we are 



Edensor. 1 99 

upon limestone roads, but the discomfort was only tri- 
fling ; the weather, however, was really warm, and our 
umbrellas were brought into use as sunshades. 

Haddon Hall is a fine specimen of the old hall, and 
Chatsworth of the new, except that the latter partakes 
far too much of the show feature. It is no doubt amaz- 
ing to the crowds of Manchester and Birmingham 
workers who flock here for a holiday and who have 
seen nothing finer, but to us who have seen the older 
gems of England, Chatsworth seems much too modern 
for our fastidious tastes. I speak only of the interior, 
of course, for the house itself and its surroundings are 
grand ; so is the statuary in the noble hall set apart for 
it — really the best feature in the house. 



Edensor, July 4. 
Edensor is the model village which the Duke of 
Devonshire has built adjoining the park — a very ap- 
propriate and pretty name, for it is perhaps the finest 
made-to-order village in England. Every cottage is 
surrounded by pretty grounds and is built with an eye 
to picturesqueness. It is entered by a handsome lodge 
from the park, and the road at its upper end is also 
closed by gates. The church, erected in 1870 from de- 
signs of Gilbert Scott, occupies the site of an older one. 
Opening from the south side of the chancel is a mortu- 
ary chapel containing monuments of the Cavendish 
family. In the churchyard is the monument of Sir 



200 Four 4n-Hand in Britain. 

Joseph Paxton, builder of the Crystal Palace, who was 
formerly head gardener at Chatsworth. 

One or two epitaphs in the churchyard are worth 
noting. The following is dated 1787: 

" I was like grass, cut down in haste, 
For fear too long should grow ; 
I hope made fit in heaven to sit, 
So why should I not go ! " 

To be sure, why not ? But is there not a little am- 
biguity in the " too long should grow ? " 

The next one, dated 1818, seems to commemorate the 
decease of a plough-boy who was rash enough to leave 
his proper vocation for another — a sad illustration of 
ne sutor ultra crepidam. 

" When he that day with th' waggon went, 
He little thought his glass was spent ; 
But had he kept his Plough in Hand, 
He might have longer till'd the Land." 

One could not expect that the moral inculcated here 
v/ould find favor with our Americans. How could the 
Mighty Republic ever have been brought to its present 
height and embraced the majority of all English-speak- 
ing people in the world, if her sons had not been ambi- 
tious and changed from one occupation to another? 
" Stick to your last " is only fit for monarchical coun- 
tries, where people believe in classes. This young man 
was of the right sort and should have a verse of praise 






A Modern Phaethon. 201 

on his tombstone instead of this one which reflects 
upon him. One of the party declared that the man 
must have been the best workman on the place, and 
that in America he would soon have owned the acres 
he ploughed instead of ploughing here for some landlord 
who spent the resources of the land in London or 
on the continent. The poetess of the party was com- 
missioned to provide a substitute for the obnoxious 
verse which should applaud the act of this modern 
Phaethon who would try to drive the wagon, after he 
had learned all he could about ploughing. We were 
driving homeward, and as the discussion ended in the 
manner aforesaid, a sweet voice broke forth : 

" I winna hae the laddie that drives the cart and ploo, 
Although he may be tender, although he may be true ; 
But I'll hae the laddie that has my heart betrayed, 
The bonnie shepherd laddie that wears the crook and plaid." 

The Charioteers gave it the swelling chorus : 

" For he's aye true to his lassie, 
Aye true to his lassie, 
Aye true to me." 

Who knows but the refusal of some rural beauty like 
her of the song to have the laddie that " ca'd the ploo " 
may have stirred our unfortunate youth to a change of 
occupation? The "sex "is at the bottom of most of 
man's misfortunes (and blessings too, let it be noted) 



202 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

and why not of this lamentable end of the would-be 
wagoner ! 

The day was so warm, and our next stage to Buxton 
being not very long (twenty-six miles), we decided to 
spend the day at Edensor and take an evening drive. 
We met here, enjoying their honeymoon, a bride and 
groom who were well known to our Wolverhampton 
delegation, and how do you suppose they were travel- 
ling ? Not in the ordinary mode, I assure you. I 
mention this incident that some of my charming young 
lady friends, who give me so much pleasure riding with 
me, may make a note of it. They were doing beautiful 
Derbyshire on horseback ! It was delightful to see 
them start off in this way. I became interested in the 
bride, who must be no ordinary woman to think of this 
plan ; she told me it was proving a wonderful success ; 
and the happy young fellow intimated to me, in a kind 
of confidential way, that her novel idea was the finest 
one he had ever been a party to. I asked him if he 
could honestly recommend it, and he boldly said he 
could. We must think over this. 

The evening ride was one of our pleasantest experi- 
ences. How entrancing England is after a warm day, 
when everything seems to rejoice in the hours of peace, 
succeeding the sunshine which forces growth ! 

" When the heart-sick earth 
Turns her broad back upon the gaudy sun, 



Buxton. 203 

And stoops her weary forehead to the night 
To struggle with her sorrow all alone, 
The moon, that patient sufferer, pale with pain, 
Presses her cold lips on her sister's brow 
Till she is calm." 

It is thus the earth appeared to me as we drove 
along ; it was resting after its labors of the sunny day. 
The night was spent at Buxton, that famous spa, which 
has been the resort of health-seekers for more than a 
thousand years, for it was well known to the Romans 
and probably to their predecessors. We saw many in- 
valids there drinking the waters, which are chiefly chaly- 
beate ; but I take it, as is usual with such places, the 
change of air and scene, of thought and effort, and, with 
most, change of diet and freedom from excess, count 
for ninety-nine points, and the waters, may be, for one. 
But it is of no consequence what does it, so it is done, 
therefore Buxton continues to flourish. 

How wise a physician was he who cured the Great 
Mogul when all other remedies had failed ! The mirac- 
ulous Tree of Life was upon a mountain five miles from 
the palace, and had to be visited daily, in the early 
morning, by the sufferer, who was required to repeat an 
incantation under its boughs. The words literally trans- 
lated were no doubt something like this : " Pray away, 
you old fool ! but it's the walk that does it." You need 
not laugh. This put into such Latin as the schools de- 
light in might be made to sound frightful to the Mogul 



204 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

" and scare him good,' as the negro exhorters deem to 
be essential for spiritual recovery. 

Our hotel was a magnificent " limited company " 
affair. The start next morning was a sight, in the first 
real downpour in dead earnest we had experienced. 
The sky was dark — not one tiny ray of light to give us 
the slightest hope of change ; the barometer low and 
still falling. Just such a morning as might have begun 
the flood. Clearly Ave were in for it ; nevertheless, at 
the appointed hour the Gay Charioteers, arrayed in 
their waterproofs, with the good hats and bonnets all 
inside the coach, passed through the crowds of guests 
who lined the hall, wondering at these mad Americans, 
and took their accustomed seats with an alacrity that 
showed they considered the weather " perfectly lovely." 

There are two miles of steep ascent as we leave the 
town, and a few of us decided to walk, two of the ladies 
among the number. Those who started upon the 
coach were all right ; the pedestrians, however, found 
themselves far from dry when the top was reached — 
feet and knees were wet. By noon the rain had ceased, 
and we stopped at a little inn, where fires were made, 
our " reserve " clothing brought into use, and our wet 
clothes dried, and we were as happy as larks when we 
sat down to luncheon. Is not that a wise test which 
Thackeray puts into the mouth of one of his waiters: 
" Oh, I knew he was a gentleman, he was so easily 
pleased ! " Well, our host and hostess at that little inn, 



Manchester. 205 

who were taken so by surprise when a four-in-hand 
stopped at the door, said something like this about the 
American ladies and gentlemen as they left. Why not ? 
Nothing comes amiss to the Gay Charioteers, and so on 
we go to Manchester, getting once more into the grim, 
smoky regions of manufacturing enterprise. 



Manchester, July 6. 

Mine host of The Queen's takes the prize for the one 
best " swell " dinner enjoyed by the party ; but then the 
rain and the moderate luncheon at the little inn, so dif- 
ferent from the picnics on flowery banks, may have 
given it a relish. The Queen's was evidently determined 
that its American guests should leave with a favorable 
impression, and so they did. 

There was time to visit the Town Hall and walk the 
principal streets, but all felt an invincible repugnance 
to large towns. It was not these we had come to see. 
Let us get away as soon as possible, and out once more 
to the green fields ; we have cotton-mills and warehouses 
and dirty, smoky manufactories enough and to spare at 
home. The morning was cloudy, but the rain held off, 
and we left the hotel amid a great crowd. The police 
had at last to step in front of the coach and clear the 
way. The newspapers had announced our arrival and 
intended departure, and this brought the crowd upon 
us. Getting into and out of large cities is the most dif- 
ficult part of our driving, for the Ordnance map is useless 



206 Four-in-Hatid in Britain. 

there — frequent stoppages and inquiries must be made ; 
but so far we have been fortunate, and our horn keeps 
opposing vehicles out of our way in narrow streets and 
in turning corners. We were bound for Anderton 

Hall, to spend the night with our friend Mr. B . 

Luncheon was taken in a queer, old-fashioned inn, 
where we ate from bare deal tables, and drank home- 
brewed ale while we sang : 

"Let gentlemen fine sit down to their wine, 
But we will stick to our beer, we will, 
For we will stick to our beer." 

The number and variety of temperance drinks ad- 
vertised in England is incredible. Non-alcoholic bev- 
erages meet us in flaming advertisements at every step 
— from nervous tonics, phosphated, down to the most 
startling of all, which, according to the London Echo of 
June 2d, the Bishop of Exeter advertised when he 
opened a coffee-house, saying : 

" It looks like beer, 

It smells like beer, 

It tastes like beer, 

Yet it is not beer." 

Better if it had been, your reverence, for your new 
beverage was probably a villanous compound, certain 
to work more injury than genuine beer. In this country 
we also try to cheat the devil. I mean our unco good 
people try it ; but we call it " bitters," and the worse 
the whiskey the better the bitters. 



Anderton Hall. 207 

Chorley, July 7. 
As we approached Anderton Hall the English and 
American flags were seen floating from the archway, 
earnest of cordial welcome. We were quite at home 

immediately. Mr. and Mrs. B had their family and 

friends ready to greet us. The dining-hall was deco- 
rated with the flags of the old and the new lands, grace- 
fully intertwined, symbolizing the close and warm friend- 
ship which exists between them — never, we hope, to be 
again disturbed. We had a long walk about the place 
and on the banks of the famous Rivington Reservoir, 
which supplies Manchester with water. In the evening, 
after dinner, came speeches. The evening passed de- 
lightfully. Next day we were sorely tempted. Mr. 

M was to have the school-children at his house to 

be entertained, and an opportunity to see a novel cele- 
bration was afforded us. Our host and hostess were 
pressing in their invitation for us to stay, but one night 
of fourteen guests, two servants, and four horses, was 
surely enough ; so we blew our horn, and, with three 
ringing cheers for Anderton Hall and all within it, drove 
out of its hospitable gates. We stopped and paid our 

respects to Mr. and Mrs. M as we passed their place, 

and left them all with very sincere regret. How pleas- 
ant it would be to linger ! but Inverness lies far in the 
north. We are scarcely one-third of our way thither 
and the time-table stares us in the face. We do not 
quite " fold our tents like the Arabs and silently steal 



208 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

away," but at the thrilling call of the horn we mount, 
and with cheers and God-speeds take our departure for 
other scenes, but many a long day shall it be ere the 
faces of the kind people we leave behind fade from our 
memory. 

Chorley has been one of the seats of the cotton 
manufacture in England for more than two hundred 
years, the business having been begun there about the 
time of the Restoration. During the American Revolu- 
tion it was visited, like other places in Lancashire, by 
mobs who broke up the spinning machines because they 
feared that they would deprive the poor of labor. 
Similar mobs once destroyed sewing-machines in France. 
What a commentary upon such short-sightedness has 
been the success of the spinning-jenny and the sewing- 
machine, and the revolution they have made in the 
manufacturing industry of the world ! 



Preston, July 8. 
Preston, sixteen miles away, is our destination, 
permitting a late start to be make. Our route is 
still through a manufacturing district; for Manchester 
reaches her arms far out in every direction. We pass 
now and then a company of show-people with their 
vans. Sometimes we find the caravan at rest, the old, 
weary-looking horses nibbling the road-side grass, for 
the irregularity of the hedges in England gives fine 
little plots of grass along the hedge-rows, and nice off- 



Strolling Players. 209 

sets, as it were, in the road, where these strolling 
players, and gypsies, pedlers, and itinerant venders of 
all sorts of queer things, can call a halt and enjoy them- 
selves. Every van appears to be invested with an air 
of mystery, for was not our Shakespeare, 

" Th' applause, delight, the wonder of our stage," 

a strolling player, playing his part in barns and out- 
houses to wondering rustics? There are such pos- 
sibilities in every van that I greet the sweet little 
child as if she were a princess in disguise, and the dark- 
eyed, foreign-looking boy as if he might have within 
him the soul of Buddha. I do not believe that any 
other form of life has the attractions of this nomadic 
existence. To make it perfect one should put away 
enough in the funds as a reserve to be drawn upon when 
he could not make the pittance necessary to feed and 
clothe him and buy a few old copies of good books as 
he passed through a village. The rule might be, only 
when hungry shall this pocket-book be opened. I should 
have one other contingency in order to be perfectly 
happy — when I wanted to help a companion in distress. 
Elia was truly not very far from it when he said that if 
he were not the independent gentleman he was he 
would be a beggar. So, if I were not the independent 
gentleman I am, I would be a member of a strolling 
band, such as we often pass in this crowded land, and 
boast that Shakespeare was of our profession. What 



14 



210 Four-in-Hand in Britain* 

are the Charioteers, after all, in their happiest dream, 
but aristocratic gypsies? That is the reason we are so 
enraptured with the life. 

But in Preston there is no scope for idealism. It is 
a city where cotton is king. No town can be much less 
attractive ; but, mark you, a few steps toward the river 
and you overlook one of the prettiest parks in the world. 
The Ribble runs at the foot of the sloping hill upon 
which the city stands, and its banks have been converted 
into the pleasure-ground I speak of, in which the toilers 
sport in thousands and gaze upon the sweet fields of 
living green beyond far into the country. It is not so 
bad when the entire district is not given over to manu- 
factures, as in Birmingham and Manchester. There is 
the cloud, but there is the silver lining also. 

If ever the people of England and America are 
estranged in some future day, which God forbid, I could 
wish that every American were duly informed of the 
conduct of the people of Lancashire during the rebellion, 
and, indeed, of England, Ireland, and Scotland as well, 
but more particularly of such as were directly dependent 
upon the supply of cotton for work, as was the case here. 
The troops of Pennsylvania did not more truly fight the 
battle of the Union at Gettysburg, than did the thou- 
sands of men and women here under the lead of Bright 
and Cobden, Potter, Forster, Storey, and others, who 
held the enemies of Republicanism in check. The sacri- 
fices they bore could never have been borne except for 



Preston. 211 

a cause which they felt to be their own and held as 
sacred. The ruling classes of the land were naturally 
against the Republic. This we must always expect till 
the day comes in Britain (and it is coming) when all forms 
of hereditary privilege are swept away and the people 
are equal politically one with another. Nothing could 
possibly please the aristocracy of Britain, or any aristoc- 
racy, more than the failure of a nation which ignores 
aristocracy altogether. That is obvious. Human nature 
would not be what it is were this not so, and they are 
not blamable for it, but, resisting every temptation, the 
working men of Britain — those to whom a Republic 
promises so much, for it gives all men political equality 
— these stood firm from first to last, the staunch and 
unflinching friends of the Republic. Some day, perhaps, 
it may be in the power of America to show that where 
the interests of the masses of Britain are concerned, she 
has not forgotten the deep debt she owes to them ; no 
matter what the provocation, the people of America 
must remember it is their turn to forbear for the sake, 
not of the ruling classes, but for the sake of the masses 
of Britain who were and are her devoted friends. 

Preston, that is, Priest's Town, for it received its 
name from the many ecclesiastics resident there as early 
as the eighth century, was once the principal port of 
Lancashire ; and when Charles I. collected ship-money 
it was assessed for nearly twice the amount of Liver- 
pool. 



212 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

This was the Charles of whom Lincoln knew so 
little. Mr. Blaine tells this good story among a hun- 
dred, for he is wonderful in this line : When Lincoln 
and Seward went to Fortress Monroe to meet Mr. 
Hunter, who represented the Confederate Government, 
the latter was exceedingly anxious to get the President 
to promise that if the rebels would lay down their arms 
no confiscation of property (slaves, of course, included) 
should follow, and that no man should be punished for 
taking part in the rebellion. Mr. Hunter concluded by 
saying that this would only be following the course 
pursued in England after the contest with King Charles. 
" Well, Mr. Hunter," said that sagacious and born 
leader of men, Father Abraham, " my friend Seward 
here is the historian of my Cabinet, but the only thing 
I remember about King Charles is that Cromwell cut his 
head off ! " Lincoln did not know very much, you see, 
but then he knew the only part much worth knowing 
upon the subject, which is one of the differences be- 
tween a great man and a learned one. 

It was at this celebrated interview that Lincoln 
took up a blank sheet of writing-paper and said to the 
Confederates, let me write Emancipation here at the top 
and you can fill the rest of the page with your condi- 
tions. 

Lincoln seized the key of a political position as Napo- 
leon did of a military one, and never relaxed his grasp. 
He would tell stories all nisrht and make his auditors 



Richelieu and Cromwell. 213 

shout with laughter, but whenever the real business was 
touched upon, he made his opponents feel that the 
natural division was that the buzzard should fall to 
them while his long bony fingers were already fast upon 
the turkey. He could afford to joke and be patient, 
for he saw the end from the beginning, and had faith in 
the Republic. 

See what the whirligig of time brings round. Near 
Preston, in the valley of the Ribble, was fought in 1648 
the battle of Preston or Ribblesdale, in which Cromwell 
defeated the Scotch army under the Duke of Hamilton, 
and the English army under Sir Marmaduke Lang- 
dale. The Royalists were driven at the point of the 
bayonet through the streets of Preston, and, though they 
made a stand at Uttoxeter, were finally overthrown 
and both generals and many thousand men made pris- 
oners. It was a notable struggle, for the Royalists had 
more than twice as many men as the Parliamentarians ; 
but then the latter had the great Oliver, who knew how 
and when to strike a blow. 

Booth may not be great in anything, as some think, 
but I do not know his equal in " Richelieu ; " and in one 
scene in particular he has always seemed to me at his 
very best. The king sits with his new minister, Baradas, 
in attendance at his side. Richelieu reclines upon a sofa 
exhausted while his secretaries " deliver up the papers 
of a realm." A secretary is on his knee presenting 
papers. He says : 



214 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

"The affairs of England, Sire, most urgent. Charles 
The First has lost a battle that decides 
One half his realm — craves moneys, Sire, and succor. 

King. He shall have both. Eh, Baradas ? 

Baradas. Yes, Sire. 

Richelieu. {Feebly, but with great distinctness) My liege — 
Forgive me — Charles's cause is lost. A man, 
Named Cromwell, risen — a great ma7i — " 

That is enough, a great man settles things ; a small 
one nibbles away at petty reforms, although he knows 
nothing is settled thereby, and that the question is only 
pushed ahead for the time to break out again directly. 
English politicians are mostly nibblers, though Gladstone 
can take a good bite when put to it. 

Will you lay " violent hands upon the Lord's anoint- 
ed ? " " I'll anoint ye ! " says Cromwell, and then, I take 
it, was settled for the future the " divine right of kings " 
theory ; for since that time these curious appendages 
of a free state have been kept for show, and we hear 
nothing more of the " divinity which doth hedge a king." 
Some one of the party remarked that we had not seen 
a statue or even a picture of England's great Protector. 
I told them a wise man once said that the reason Crom- 
well's statue was not put among those of the other 
rulers of England at Westminster was because he would 
dwarf them. But his day is coming. We shall have 
him there in his proper place by and by, and how small 
hereditary rulers will seem beside him ! 

We noticed in the Pall Mall Gazette a curious proof 



Cromwell at Drury Lane. 215 

of Cromwell's place in the hearts of the people of Eng- 
land. The pantomime at Drury Lane had a scene in 
which all the Kings and Queens of England marched 
across the stage in gorgeous procession. Each was 
greeted with cheers or hisses or with more or less cordial 
greeting as the audience thought deserved. When Crom- 
well appeared in the line a few hisses were answered by 
round after round of cheering, and the Lord Protector 
nightly received a popular ovation far beyond that ac- 
corded to any other ruler. That the manager of the 
leading theatre in London should have thought it ad- 
missible to introduce the Republican among the Kings 
is a straw which shows a healthy breeze blowing in the 
political currents of English life. 

He was truly a host in himself ; besides, his men were 
fighting for something better than had been, the others 
only for maintaining what had before existed. It is this 
which drives Conservatives to the wall when radicalism 
moves in earnest upon them. The aspirations of the 
race for further and higher development nerve the arm 
which strikes down the barriers of an ignorant past. 
Who could battle enthusiastically only for such incom- 
plete and unsatisfactory development as we have already 
reached and pronounce it good ! The prize is not worth 
it. What the race is capable of achieving in the broad 
future is the mainspring of our assault upon every abuse 
or privilege, the heritage of the past which disgraces 
the present. 



216 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

At Preston many of us received letters from home. 
Harry's funny one from his little daughter Emma (a 
namesake of our Emma of the Charioteers) gave us a 
good laugh. I remember there was one announcement 
particularly noteworthy : " Ninety dollars gone to smash, 
papa. The pony's dead." There is your future special 
correspondent for you. 

At eleven o'clock this evening the party received a 
notable addition — Andrew M., my old schoolfellow and 
" the Maester's son," arrived from Dunfermline. He was 
received at the station by a committee especially ap- 
pointed for the purpose, and shortly thereafter duly 
initiated into all the rites and mysteries of the Gay 
Charioteers. He was required, late as it was, to sing 
two Scotch songs to determine his eligibility. There 
may be some man who can sing " Oh ! why left I my 
hame ? " — my favorite at present, and written by Gilfil- 
lan in Dunfermline, note that — or " When the kye come 
hame," better than our new member, but none of us has 
been so fortunate as to meet him, nor have I ever heard 
one who could sing them as well for me ; but there may 
be a touch of Auld Lang Syne in his voice which strikes 
chords in my heart and sets them vibrating. There are 
subtle sympathies lurking in the core of man's nature, 
responsive to no law but their own, but I notice all press 
Andrew to sing, and keep very quiet when he does. We 
had the pleasure of seeing the new member get just as 
daft as the rest of us next day, gathering wild flowers 



Scotch Songs. 217 

along the hedgerows, the glittering, towering coach 
coming up to us. He had time to say: "Man, this 
canna be vera bad for us ! " No, not very ; only we did 
not know then how bad it would be for us when, after the 
dream-like existence had passed and we were back once 
more to our labors of this work-a-day world, thrown out 
as it were from a paradise and falling as Milton's Satan 
fell ; but it's better to have loved and lost than never 
to have loved at all. 

Fortunately we did not know then that for months 
after our fall there were to be only sad memories of days 
of happiness so unalloyed that they can never again be 
equalled. It is not at all desirable to be honestly per- 
suaded that you never again can have seven weeks of 
such days as made us happy, innocent children ; but we 
shall see. There are as good fish in the sea as were ever 
caught, and though it is true they do not seem to bite 
as they used to, may be we can venture to try coaching 
again. The height of our musical season was during 
this part of the journey. Miss R., Miss J., and Mrs. 
K. are all musical and blessed with the power of song. 
Messrs. M., McC. and K. differ only as one star differs 
from another in glory ; and there was another gentle- 
man, who shall be nameless, who sang without being 
asked, and who, as usual, was not encored by his unap- 
preciative audience, his being evidently the music of the 
future. 

Davie deserves notice. He sang a beautiful Scotch 



218 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

song to-day, " Cowden Knowes," and when he was done 
Andrew immediately asked : " Whaur did ye get that ? 
Ye didna get that out of a book! " 

Right, my boy. It was at his father's knee. Who 
ever learnt a Scotch song out of books ? They are pos- 
sessed of souls, these songs, to be caught only from 
living lips. The bodies alone are to be found within 
the bars. 

Passing Bolton we saw the first bowling green, sure 
proof that we are getting northward, where eveiy village 
has its green and its bowling club, the ancient game of 
bowls still offering to rural England attractions para- 
mount to more modern sports. 

We lunched at Grisdalebrook, ten miles from Lan- 
caster, which was to be our stopping-place. To-day's 
drive was made fragrant by the scent of new-mown hay, 
and we passed many bands of merry haymakers. When 
Dickens pronounced no smell the best smell, he must 
have momentarily forgotten that which so delighted us. 
I do give up most of the so-called fine smells, but there 
are a few better than Dickens's best, and surely that of to- 
day is of them. We went into a Catholic church in one 
of our strolls — for let it be remembered many a glorious 
tramp we had — and the coach was rarely honored with 
all the party when a chance to walk presented itself. 
The requests posted upon the door of this church seemed 
to carry one back a long way : 

" Of your charity pray for the soul of Rebecca Robinson, who 



The Roman Church. 219 

died June 7th, 1880, fortified with rites of Holy Church, on whose 
soul sweet Jesus have mercy. R. I. P." 

There were several such requests. What a power 
that church has been and is, only one who has travelled 
the world round can know. In England here it is but a 
sickly, foreign plant, so fearfully foreign. We can all 
repeat Buddha's words and apply them to it, but they 
should not stop here : 

" And third came she who gives dark creeds their power, 
Silabbat-paramasa, sorceress, 
Draped fair in many lands as lowly Faith, 
But ever juggling souls with rites and prayers ; 
The keeper of those keys which lock up Hells 
And open Heavens. ' Wilt thou dare ? ' she said, 
' Put by our sacred books, dethrone our gods, 
Unpeople all the temples, shaking down 
That law which feeds the priests and props the realm ? ' 
But Buddha answered, ' What thou bidd'st me keep 
Is form which passes, but the free truth stands ; 
Get thee unto thy darkness.' " 

Say what we will about the Roman Church, there is 
something sublime in her attitude. Neither sense nor 
reason make the slightest impression upon her ; for she 
stands confident in her power and her right to save, de- 
nying the power to others, regardless of the conclusions 
of science and the fuller knowledge of to-day. This 
gives her the hold she obtains among the ignorant 
masses, whether at home or abroad. 



220 Four-i7i-Ha,7id in Britain. 

The world-wide influence of this faith can never be 
rightly estimated until one has visited the missions 
throughout India, China, and Japan. The converts are 
generally to the Catholic church. To-day on the coach 
in speaking of this, I told an inquirer that in my opinion 
one, if not the chief, obstacle to the success of missions 
to the heathen, lies in the differences between the Chris- 
tian sects, and I illustrated it by a story : 

One day in China I asked our guide Ah Cum, a gen- 
tleman and a scholar, and a man of excellent mind, why 
he did not embrace Christianity. His eyes twinkled 
as he replied : " Where goee, eh ? Goee Bishopee ? 
(pointing to the Cathedral). He say, allee rightee. Go 
there? (pointing to the English church). Bishop say 
damme! Goee Hopper? (the American Presbyterian 
Missionary). He sayee Bishop churchee no goodee — 
hellee firee. What I do'ee ? eh ! " 

" Stay where you are, you rogue." Confound the 
fellow ! I did not expect to be picked up in that man- 
ner. 

Ah Cum was severely let alone after that upon the 
subject of his conversion. I have no hope of him until 
we agree among ourselves exactly what v/e wish the 
heathen to accept. It is in vain we preach one God 
and five different religions ; there must be only one 
true religion as well. Ah Cum's defence of the worship 
of ancestors was clever. It ran thus : All religions 
acknowledge the Creator of life as the true object of 



Lancaster. 221 

worship. Taking hold of his watch chain, he began at 
the first link and said : " I worshipee my parents (pass- 
ing one link), my parents worshipee their parents " 
(passing another link, and so on till he had passed quite 
a number) ; " by by come to firstee, lifee Goddee. You 
jump up sky all oncee, miss him, may be." 

He thought he had a sure thing passing up link by 
link to the end. We need clever missionaries to hold 
their own with these Celestials. 



Lancaster, July 9, 10. 
We had done our twenty-nine miles from Preston 
and reached Lancaster in good season. There we had 
a treat. The High Sheriff for the county had just been 
elected and made his entry into town according to im- 
memorial custom. He represents royalty in the county 
during his term of office, which I believe is only two 
years. It costs the recipient of the honor a large sum 
to maintain the dignities of the office, for its emolu- 
ments are nil. The sheriff was staying at our hotel, a 
very fine one, The County. He is wakened every morn- 
ing by two heralds richly dressed in the olden style and 
bearing halberds. They stand in front of the hotel and 
sound their bugles to call His Highness forth. It is the 
Lord Mayor's procession on a small scale. Nobody 
laughs outright at the curious mixture of feudal cus- 
toms with this age's requirements, however much every- 
body may laugh in his sleeve ; but England will have 



222 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

lost some picturesque features when all the shams are 
gone. If mankind were not greatly influenced by- 
forms, I could wish that just enough of the " good old 
times " — which were very bad times indeed — could be 
preserved, if only to prove how far we have outgrown 
them; but every form and every sham, from royalty 
downward, carries its good or evil with it. That not 
only the substance should be right, but that the form 
should correspond truly to it, is important if we are to 
be honest ; so I reconcile myself to the passing away of 
all forms which no longer honestly represent what they 
imply. 

Lancaster is a beautiful place and noted for its ad- 
mirable charitable institutions. The lunatic asylum and 
an orphanage attracted our special attention. These 
and kindred institutions abound in England, and are 
ably conducted. Rich Englishmen do not leave their 
fortunes for uses of this kind as often as Americans do. 
The ambition to found a family, and the maintenance of 
an aristocratic class by means of primogeniture and 
entail, tend to divert fortunes from this nobler path into 
the meaner end of elevating a name in the social scale ; 
but the general public in Britain is most generous, and 
immense sums in the aggregate are annually collected 
for charitable institutions. It is common for a class to 
support its own unfortunates. The commercial travel- 
lers, for instance, have an extensive home near London 
for children of their fellows and for members in their 



A Noble Charity. 223 

old age, and there is scarcely a branch of industry which 
does not follow this example. 

One cannot travel far without seeing that the British 
are a people most mindful of the unfortunate. These 
pretty homes of refuge and of rest we see scattered 
everywhere over the land, nor are they the least glori- 
ous of the many monuments of England's true worth. 

A Mr. Ripley, of Lancaster, left his fortune for an 
orphanage, open to all orphan children born within fif- 
teen miles of Lancaster. Three hundred are now pro- 
vided for, but so rapidly has the fund grown that it has 
been found practicable to extend the boundaries of its 
beneficence, and children from distant Liverpool are now 
admitted. Bravo ! Mr. Ripley. What is an earldom 
for your eldest son to this ! His father's name will 
carry him farther with the best, and he should be 
prouder of it. Show me the earl who has done as much 
for his neighborhood ! 

Lancaster Castle is a noble one. Here John o' 
Gaunt hundreds of years ago put his finger upon the 
dire root of England's woes, as far as the land goes : 

" This dear, clear land, 
Dear for her reputation through the world, 
Is now Icas'd out." 

There you have it — this England is leased out. The 
soil is not worked by its owners, and never, till England 
changes its practice and can boast a peasant proprietary 



224 Foitr-in-Hand iji Bi r ztaz7i. 

working its own acres in small farms, untrammelled by 
vicious laws, will she know what miracles can be wrought 
by those who call each little spot their own — their 
home. Englishmen are slow to change, but the day 
is not far distant when ownership of land will depend 
upon residence on it and its proper cultivation. Den- 
mark's example will be followed. Cumulative taxes will 
be levied upon each number of acres beyond a minimum 
number, and large proprietors taxed out of existence as 
they have been in Denmark, to the country's good and 
nobody's injury. We tax a man who keeps racing-horses 
or who sports armorial bearings. It is the same princi- 
ple : we can tax a man who keeps a larger amount of 
land than he can work to the State's advantage. The 
rights of property are all very well in their place, but 
the rights of man and the good of the commonwealth 
are far beyond them. I wish England would just let 
me arrange that little land matter for her. It would 
save her a generation of agitation. 

Lancaster was an ancient Roman station, as is shown 
by its name — Lune or Lone Castrum, the castle or 
camp on the Lune or Lone, the little river which 
washes its plain. For what saith Spencer in the Faery 
Queen: 

" After came the strong- shallow Lone 

That to old Lancaster its name doth lend." 

The memory of man goeth not, back to the time 



Lancaster Castle. 225 

when the first castle was built. Indeed it is of little 
consequence now, for it was almost entirely razed by 
the Scots in the fourteenth century. 

The present noble structure, or rather the older part 
of it, is the work of John O'Gaunt, that son of a king 
who was almost a king himself, and who became the 
father of kings. To him is due the magnificent Gateway 
Tower, flanked by two octagonal turrets sixty-six feet 
high, surrounded by watch-towers. Around the towers 
and across the curtain, perforated by the gate, which 
connects them, are overhanging battlements with ver- 
tical openings for pouring down molten metal or hot 
water on the heads of assailants. In a niche in front 
is a full-length statue of John O'Gaunt in the costume 
of his day, placed there in 1822. The sole remaining 
turret of the Lungess Tower, eighty-eight feet high, is 
called John O'Gaunt's Chair. It commands a view of 
great extent, comprising the hills of Cumberland and 
Westmoreland and nearly the whole extent of the 
valley of the Lune, with the Irish Sea in the distance. 

Some moralists, who believe that men and times are 
degenerate, may lament that this grand old castle — the 
ancient residence of nobles — should now be the abode 
of criminals ; but, while equally desirous that its archi- 
tectural wonders may be preserved, I am not inclined 
to admit that the thieves and cutthroats who now have 
their homes within its walls through the puissance of 
the law are any worse morally than were many of the 
15 



226 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

noble barons who robbed and ravished in the good 
old times when the question of might versus right was 
always settled in favor of the plaintiff. Some of them 
indeed more richly merited a halter than the comfort- 
able seclusion from the outer world accorded to their 
modern representatives. Even good old John O'Gaunt 
himself was not so virtuous that he could shy moral 
stones at his neighbors. 

Sunday was spent in Lancaster, and much enjoyed. 
The service in church was fine and the afternoon's ex- 
cursion to the country delightful. Here Miss A. B. 
and Mr. D. left us after receiving the blessing of the 
party. Miss G. and Miss D., who were to join us here, 
failed us, but we fortunately found them waiting at 
Kendall. We started for that town, twenty-two miles 
distant, on Monday morning. It is the entrance to the 
celebrated Lake District. Messrs. T. and M., whom 
we had met at Anderton Hall, passed us on Satur- 
day, before we reached Lancaster, on bicycles. They 
were out for a run of a hundred and five miles that 
day, to visit friends beyond that city. We meet such 
travellers often. Their club now numbers seven thou- 
sand members. For an annual payment of half a crown 
(62 cents), a member has lists of routes and hotels sent 
him for any desired district, with the advantage of re- 
duced charges. It is nothing to do a hundred miles 
per day ; many have ridden from London to Bath, 
two hundred miles, within the twenty-four hours. 



Bicycles. 227 

The country swarms with these fellows. I saw fifteen 
hundred in Bushy Park one day at a meet. I think 
seventy-five clubs were there, each in a different uni- 
form. Bicycles are also growing in use for practical 
purposes, and many post-routes in the country are 
served by men who use these machines. But it takes 
roads like the English, and a level country, to do much 
with them. 

Our evening was spent in visiting the ruined castle 
and admiring a pretty Japanese kind of garden, so much 
in so little space, which attracted our attention as we 
passed. The owner, Mr. T., a solicitor, kindly invited 
us in, and afterward showed us his house. We are 
always receiving kindnesses from all sorts and conditions 
of men. 

Next day, July 12th, our objective point was Grass- 
mere, eighteen miles away. Such a lovely morning ! 
but, indeed, we are favored beyond measure with superb 
weather all the time. This stage in our progress intro- 
duced us to the scenery of the lakes, and we all felt 
that it deserved its Wordsworth ; but were we ever to let 
loose and enter the descriptive, where would it lead ? 
This is the rock upon which many a fair venture in 
story-telling has suffered shipwreck. Great mountains 
always carry one upward, but those of the Lake 
District are not great, nor is there anything great in 
the region. All is very sweet and pleasing and has 
its own peculiar charm, like the school of Lake Poets. 



228 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

At Bowness, about midway of the lake, we left the 
coach for the first time for any other kind of convey- 
ance. After enjoying a rare treat in a sail up and down 
the lake in the pretty steamer, we rejoined the coach at 
Ambleside, where we had ordered it to await us. 

Passing Storr's Hall, the mind wandered back to the 
meeting there of Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge, Chris- 
topher North, and greater than all, our own Walter 
Scott ; and surely not in all the earth could a fitter spot 
than this have been found for their gathering. How 
much the world of to-day owes to the few names who 
spent days together here ! Not often can you say of 
one little house, " Here had Ave our country's honor 
roofed " to so great an extent as it would be quite al- 
lowable to say in this instance. But behold the vanity of 
human aspirations ! If there was one wish dearer than 
another to the greatest of these men, it was that Ab- 
botsford should remain from generation to generation 
the home of his race. This very hour, while sailing on 
the lake, a newspaper was handed to me, and my eye 
caught the advertisement, "Abbotsford to let," fol- 
lowed by the stereotyped description, so many recep- 
tion-rooms, nursery, outbuildings, and offices, suitable 
for a gentleman's establishment. Shade of the mighty 
Wizard of the North, has it come to this ! Oh, the pity 
of it! the pity of it! Well for your fame that you 
built for mankind other than this stately home of your 
pride. It will crumble and pass utterly away long be- 



Abbotsford to Let / 229 

fore the humble cot of Jeannie Deans shall fade from 
the memory of man. The time will come when the 
largest son of time, who wandering sang to a listening 
world, shall be as much forgot 

" As the canoe that crossed a lonely lake 
A thousand years ago." 

But even the New Zealander who stands on the ruins 
of London Bridge will know something of Walter Scott 
if he knows much worth knowing. " Abbotsford to 
let !" This to come to us just as we were passing one 
of the haunts of Scott, than whom no greater Scot ever 
lived save one. Fortunately no such blow is possible for 
the memory of Burns. 

" After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well ; 
Treason has done his worst : nor steel, nor poison, 

Malice domestic nothing, 

Can touch him further ! " 

For this let us be thankful. We visited Words- 
worth's grave reverently in the twilight. Fresh, very 
fresh flowers lay upon it. God bless the hand that 
strewed them there this day ! I think the following 
the one very great thing he gave the world ; it contains 
" the golden guess which ever is the morning star to 
the full round of truth." The thought of the age — 
whether right or wrong we need not discuss — is hither- 
ward : 



230 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

" For I have learned 
To look on Nature, not as in the hour 
Of thoughtless youth ; but hearing oftentimes 
The still, sad music of humanity, 
Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power 
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt 
A presence that disturbs me with the joy 
Of elevated thoughts : a sense sublime 
Of something far more deeply interfused, 
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, 
And the round ocean, and the living air, 
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man 
A motion and a spirit that impels 
All thinking things, all objects of all thought, 
And rolls through all things." 

There's a platform upon which this sceptical age 
may eventually stand. It is not materialistic and it is 
not dogmatic ; perhaps it is the golden mean between 
extremes. I commend its teachings to both sides of all 
the cock-sure disputants, one of whom knows it is just so, 
and the other as presumptuously knows there is nothing 
to know. Let them shake hands and await patiently the 
coming of clearer light, and get together in solid work 
here. Surely there is enough to keep them busy. We 
still " see through a glass darkly." 

We spent our night at Grassmere, and had a fine 
row upon the lake ; and can anything be finer than music 
upon the waters, the dip of the oar, the cadence of the 
song which seems to float upon the glassy lake ? It came 



Carnegie Weather. 231 

to us again lulling us to sleep — the sweetest lullaby, 
sure precursor of happy dreams. 



Grassmere, July 13. 
" Right, Perry ! " Off for Keswick, only twelve 
miles distant ; but who wants to hurry away from 
scenes like these ? It rained heavily through the night, 
but this morning is grand for us. The mist was on the 
mountains though, and the clouds passed slowly over 
them, wrapping the tops in their mantle. The numer- 
ous rills dashing down the bare mountains were the 
themes of much praise. They reminded me of two fine 
verses from the " Light of Asia " upon " Being's cease- 
less tide," 

" Which, ever-changing, runs, linked like a river 
By ripples following ripples, fast or slow — 
The same, yet not the same — from far-off fountains 

To where its waters flow 
Into the seas. These steaming to the sun, 

Give the lost wavelets back in cloudy fleece 
To trickle down the hills, and glide again ; 
Knowing no pause or peace." 

We seem to be miraculously protected from rain. 
Many times it has poured during the night, and yet 
the days have been perfect. "Carnegie weather" be- 
gins to be talked about, and we are all disposed to 
accept the inference that the fair goddess Fortune has 
fallen deep in love with us, since Prosperity seems to be 
our page during this journey. 



232 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

The influence of America and of American ideas 
upon England is seen in various ways. We meet fre- 
quently one who has visited the Republic, whose ad- 
vanced ideas, in consequence of the knowledge derived 
from actual contact with American affairs, are very de- 
cidedly proclaimed. 

While on the train to-day we met a rattler of this 
kind, who gave many instances of the non-receptivity 
of his countrymen. I remember one of his complaints 
was in regard to a pea-sheller which he had seen at 
work in one of our monster hotels. He was so pleased 
that he bought one and took it in triumph to his inn- 
keeper at home : " Blessed if the servants would work 
it, sir; no, sir, wouldn't shell a pea with it, sir. Look 
where we are in the race of new inventions, sir. We're 
not in it. Lord bless you, sir, England isnt in it." 

This man, like converts in general to new ideas, 
went much too far. Any one who thinks that England 
is not in the race, and pretty well placed too, has not 
looked very deep. We did what we could to give him 
a juster conception of his country's position than he ap- 
parently entertained. " What on earth," I said to him, 
" has a small English hotel to do with a pea-sheller? I 
have never heard of this Yankee notion, but I doubt 
not that one pea-sheller would shell all the peas required 
by all the guests of all the hotels in town, if they fed 
the inmates on nothing but pea soup ! " But he would 
not be convinced. It was just the same with any other 



American Presidents and Royalty. 233 

improvement, he said, and he got out at a station, mut- 
tering as he went : " No, sir, she isn't in it, I tell you ; she 
isn't in it." All right, you constitutional grumbler, have 
it your own way. If this man were upon our side, he 
would not live twenty-four hours without finding fault 
with something. He is one of those who carry their pea- 
sheller with them, or find it at every turn. He belongs 
to the class of grumblers — those who cannot enjoy the 
bright genial rays of the sun for thinking of the spots 
upon it — just such another as he who found that even 
in Paradise " the halo did not fit his head exactly." 

The coaches in the Lake District have now the Eng- 
lish and the American flags upon their sides, and we 
often see the Stars and Stripes displayed at hotels. Our 
present hostelry has a flaming advertisement ending 
with : " Patrons — Royalty and American Presidents." 
There must be slender grounds for both claims, I fancy. 
General Grant, however, may have been there. As the 
elected of the largest division of the English-speaking 
race, he no doubt outranked all other patrons, and the 
proper way to put it would be "American Presidents 
and Royalty." 

At luncheon to-day it was found that our drinkables 
had better be cooled in the brook — an unusual perform- 
ance this for England ; but how vividly this little inci- 
dent brings to mind the happy scene — the row of 
bottles (contents mostly harmless) in the stream, stick- 
ing up their tiny heads as if resentful at the extraor- 



234 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

dinary bath ! Do not imagine that our party were 
worse to water than to corn ; sixteen hungry people 
need a good many bottles of various kinds, for we had 
many tastes to gratify. We were all temperance people, 
however ; a few of us even total abstinence, who re- 
quired special attention, for their milk and lemonade 
were often more difficult to procure than all the other 
fluids. The guest who gives least trouble in England, in 
the drinkable department, is he who takes beer. 

At Keswick we wandered round the principal square 
and laughed at the curious names of the inns there. In 
this region inns abound. Almost every house in that 
square offered entertainment for man and beast. Here 
is a true copy of names of inns noted in a few squares 
in the village : " Fighting Cocks," " Packhorse," " Red 
Lion," " Dog and Duck," " Black Lion," " Deerhound," 
" White Hart," " Green Lion," " Pig and Whistle," 
" White Lion," " Black Bull," " Elephant and Castle," 
" Lamb and Lark," " The Fish." If the whole village 
were scanned there would be beasts enough commemo- 
rated in its inns to make a respectable menagerie. In- 
deed, for that one " Green Lion" Barnum might safely 
pay more than for Jumbo. 

The names of English inns we have seen elsewhere 
are equally odd; let me note a few: " Hen and Chick- 
ens," " Dog and Doublet," " King and Crown," " Hole i \ 
the Wall," " Struggling Man," " Jonah and the Ark," 
" Angel and Woolsack," " Adam and Eve," " Rose and 



Freedom and Eqtiality. 235 

Crown," " Crown and Cushion." We laughed at one 
with an old-fashioned swinging sign, upon which a 
groom was scrubbing away at a naked black man (you 
could almost hear his pruss, pruss, pruss). The name 
of the house was " Labor in Vain Inn " — a perfect illus- 
tration, no doubt, in one sense ; in the higher sense, not 
so. Under the purifying influences of equality, found 
only in republican institutions, America has taught the 
world she can soon make white men out of black. Her 
effort to change the slave into a freeman has been any- 
thing but labor in vain ; what is under the skin can be 
made white enough always, if we go at it with the right 
brush. None genuine unless stamped with the well- 
known brand " Republic." " All men are born free and 
equal" is warranted to cure the most desperate cases 
when all other panaceas fail, from a mild monarchy up 
to a German despotism ; and is especially adapted for 
Irishmen. To be well shaken, however, before taken, 
and applied internally, externally, and eternally, like 
Colonel Sellers' eye-wash. 

Harry and I were absent part of this day, having run 
down to Workington to see our friend Mr. G., at the 
Steel Rail Mills. Pardon us ! — this was our only taste 
of business during the trip ; never had the affairs of this 
world been so completely banished from our thoughts. 
To get back to blast-furnaces and rolling mills was dis- 
tressing ; but we could not well pass our friend's door, 
so to speak. We have nothing to say about manu- 



236 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

facturing, for it is just with that as with their political 
institutions : England keeps about a generation behind, 
and yet deludes herself with the idea that she is the 
leader among nations. The truth is, she is often not 
even a good follower where others lead, but exceptions 
must be noted here : a few of her ablest men are not be- 
hind America in manufacturing, for there are one or 
perhaps two establishments in England which lead 
America. A great race is the British when they do go 
to work and get rid of their antiquated prejudices. 
Visitors to America like Messrs. Howard, Lothian Bell, 
Windsor Richards, Martin, and others, have no preju- 
dices which stick. But let Uncle Sam look out. If he 
thinks John Bull will remain behind in the industrial or 
the political race either, I do not ; and I believe when 
he sets to work in earnest he cannot be beaten. The 
Republic of England, when it comes, will excel all other 
republics as much as the English monarchy has excelled 
all other monarchies, or as much as Windsor Richards' 
steel practice and plant excel any we can boast of here 
at present. It is our turn now to take a step forward, 
unless we are content to be beaten. This is all right. 
Long may the two branches of the family stimulate 
each other to further triumphs, the elder encouraging 
us to hold fast that which is good, the younger pointing 
the way upward and onward — a race in which neither 
can lose, but in which both must win ! Clear the 
course ! Fair play and victory to both ! 



Democracy in England. 237 

The report of the annual public debate of Uni- 
versity College, London, attracted our notice to-day 
before leaving Kendal. The subject debated was: 
" That the advance of Democracy in England will 
tend to strengthen the Foundations of Society." 

Lord Rosebery presided, and it is his speech at the 
close which possesses political significance as coming 
from one who wears his rank 

" For the sake ofliberal uses 
And of great things to be done," 

and of whom almost any destiny may be predicted if he 
hold the true course. He said : 

" As regards government, there seemed to be great 
advantage in democracy. With an oligarchy the re- 
sponsibility was too great and the penalty for failure too 
high. He did not share the asperity manifested by one 
of the speakers against American institutions, and, hav- 
ing visited the country on several occasions, he felt the 
greatest warmth for America and the American people. 
Persons who elected by free choice a moderate intellect 
to represent them were better off than those who had a 
leviathan intellect placed over them against their will, 
and this free choice the people of the United States 
possessed. It had been said by the opponents of de- 
mocracy that the best men in America devoted them- 
selves to money-getting ; but this was a strong argu- 
ment in its favor, as showing that democracy was not 



238 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

correctly represented as a kind of grabbing at the 
property of others." 

Never were truer words spoken than these, my lord. 
What a pity you were not. allowed the privilege of start- 
ing " at scratch " in life's race, like Gladstone or Dis- 
raeli ! From any success achieved there must be made 
the just deduction for so many yards allowed Lord 
Rosebery. Receive the sincere condolences of him who 
welcomed you to honorary membership of the Burns 
Club of New York, not because of these unfortunate, 
unfair disadvantages, for he would not have welcomed a 
prince for his rank, but for your merits as a man. 



Penrith, July 14. 

We reached Penrith, July 14th, after a delightful day's 
drive. Never were the Gay Charioteers happier, for the 
hilly ground gave us many opportunities for grand 
walks. When these come it is a red-letter day. The 
pleasure of walking should rank as one of the seven dis- 
tinct pleasures of existence, and yet I have some friends 
who know nothing of it ; they are not coaching through 
England, however. 

I have omitted to chronicle the change that came 
over the Queen Dowager shortly after we started from 
Wolverhampton ; till then she had kept the seat of 
honor next to Perry, inviting one after another as a 
special honor to sit in front with her. She soon dis- 
covered that a good deal of the fun going on was missed ; 



On the Borders. 239 

besides, she had not all of us under her eye. Her seat 
was exchanged for the middle of the back form, where 
she was supported by one on each side, while four others 
had their faces turned to hers, giving an audience of no 
less than six for her stories and old ballads. Her 
tongue went from morning till night, if I do say it, and 
her end of the coach was always in for its share of any 
frolic stirring. She was " in a gale " all day to-day, and 
kept us all roaring. 

Our next stage would take us to Carlisle, the border- 
town behind which lay the sacred soil, " Scotia dear." 
Mr. B. and his son joined us here and went on with us 
the last day upon English soil, waving adieu, as it were, 
as we plunged into Scotland. Mr. and Mrs. K. left us 
for Paisley to see the children, and what a loss I here 
record no one but the members can possibly under- 
stand. Aaleck and Aggie gone ! If anything could 
long dampen the joyous spirits of the party, this separa- 
tion surely would have done it ; but we were to meet 
again in Edinburgh, where the reconstruction of the 
Charioteers was to take place. At Carlisle, too, the 
Parisians were to be welcomed back again — plenty to 
look forward to, you see. We started for Carlisle July 
15th, the day superb as usual. 

We had left the Lake District, with its hills and 
flowing streams, to pass through a tamer land ; but our 
luncheon to-day, in a field near " Hesketh in the 
Forest," was not unromantic. The members from 



240 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Anderton Hall caught the fever, as was usual with 
neophytes, and regretted that their return was impera- 
tively required. One day gave them a taste of the true 
gypsy life. Hesketh was " in the Forest," no doubt, 
but this was many long years ago. To-day there is 
nothing to justify its name. Smiling green fields, roads 
as perfect as they can be made, pretty houses, trim 
hedge-rows and gardens, and all so intensely civilized as 
to bring vividly before you the never ceasing change 
which the surface of the earth undergoes to fit it for the 
sustenance of dense masses of men. 



Carlisle, July 15. 

Here is reconstruction for you with a vengeance ! 
First, let us mourn the unhappy departures : Mr. and 
Mrs. K. went yesterday and Miss R., Miss G., the Misses 
B., Miss D. and Mr. B. and son go to-day. Cousin 
Maggie, who had become absorbed in this kind of life, 
so dazed with happiness, her turn has come too, even 
she must go ; Andrew M., with his fine Scotch aroma 
and his songs, must report to his superior officer at the 
encampment, for is he not a gallant volunteer and an 
officer under Her Majesty, " sworn never to desert his 
home except in case of invasion ! " Well, we cannot help 
these miserable changes in this world, nor the " sawt, 
sawt tears " of the young ladies as they kiss each other, 
swearing eternal friendship, and sob good-byes. 

But if farewell ever sighs, welcome comes in smiling. 



Farewell to England. 241 

Look ! Cousin E. in my arms and a warm kiss of wel- 
come ! That is the very best of consolation. Clever, 
artistic Miss R., too, from Edinburgh ; and then are we 
not to have our four originals back again, after two long 
weeks' absence ! It was fortunate that our sad farewells 
were so promptly followed by smiling welcomes. 

Do any people love their country as passionately as 
the Scotch ? I mean the earth of it, the very atoms of 
which its hills and glens are composed. I doubt it. 
Now here is Maggie, a douse, quiet, sensible girl. I 
tried to say something cheery to her to-day as we were 
approaching Carlisle, where we v/ere to part, reminding 
her jokingly that she had received five weeks' coaching 
while her poor sister Eliza would have only two. " Ah ! 
but she has Scotland, Naig ! " " Do you really mean to 
tell me that you would rather have two weeks in your 
own country than five weeks seeing a new land, and that 
land England, with London and Brighton, and the lakes 
and all?" I just wish you could have seen and heard 
how the " Of course " came in reply. The Scotch always 
have Scotland first in their hearts, and some of them, I 
really believe, will get into trouble criticising Paradise 
if it be found to differ materially from Scotland. 

To-morrow we are to enter that land of lands. Fair 
England, farewell ! How graciously kind has been the 
reception accorded by you to the wanderers ! How 
beautiful you are ! how tenderly dear you have be- 
come to all of us ! Not one of us but can close his 
16 



242 Fonr-in-Hand in Britain. 

eyes and revel in such quiet beauty as never before was 

his. 

" Not a grand nature . . . 

On English ground 
You understand the letter . . . ere the fall 
How Adam lived in a garden. All the fields 
Are tied up fast with hedges, nosegay like ; 
The hills are crumpled plains — the plains pastures, 
And if you seek for any wilderness 
You find at best a park. A nature 
Tamed and grown domestic . . . 
A sweet familiar nature, stealing in 
As a dog might, or child, to touch your hand, 
Or pluck your gown, and humbly mind you so 
Of presence and affection." 

" There is no farewell to scenes like thine." From 
the depths of every heart in our company comes the 
trembling " God bless you, England ! " 



SCOTLAND. 

" Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses ! 

In you let the minions of luxury rove ; 
Restore me the rocks where the snowflake reposes, 

Though still they are sacred to freedom and love : 
Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains, 

Round their white summits though elements war ; 
Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth flowing fountains, 

I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr." 

It was on Saturday, July 16th, that we went over 
the border. The bridge across the boundary line was 
soon reached. When midway over a halt was called, 
and vent given to our enthusiasm. With three cheers 
for the land of the heather, shouts of " Scotland for- 
ever," and the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, we 
dashed across the border. O Scotland, my own, my 
native land, your exiled son returns with love for 
you as ardent as ever warmed the heart of man for his 
country. It's a God's mercy I was born a Scotchman, 
for I do not see how I could ever have been contented 
to be anything else. The little plucky dour deevil, set 
in her own ways and getting them too, level-headed and 
shrewd, with an eye to the main chance always and yet 
so lovingly weak, so fond, so led away by song or story, 

243 



244 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

so easily touched to fine issues, so leal, so true ! Ah ! 
you suit me, Scotia, and proud am I that I am your 
son. 

We stopped at Gretna Green, of course, and walked 
to the site of the famous blacksmith-shop where so 
many romantic pairs have been duly joined in the holy 
bonds of wedlock. A wee laddie acted as guide, and 
from him we had our first real broad Scotch. His 
dialect was perfect. He brought "wee Davie" to mind 
at once. I offered him a shilling if he could " screed 
me aff effectual calling." He knew his catechism, but 
he could not understand it. Never mind that, Davie, 
that is another matter. Older heads than yours have 
bothered over that doctrine and never got to the bot- 
tom of it. Besides there will be a " revised edition " of 
that before you are a man. Just you let it alone ; it is 
the understanding of that and some other dogmas of 
poor ignorant man's invention that thin the churches of 
men who think and " make of sweet religion a rhapsody 
of words." "But do you ken Burns?" "Aye," said 
Davie, " I ken ' A man's a man for a' that,' and ' Auld 
Lang Syne.' " " Good for you, Davie, there's another 
shilling. Good-bye ! But I say, Davie, if you can't 
possibly remember all three of these pieces, don't let it 
be ' A man's a man for a' that ' that you forget, for 
Scotchmen will need to remember that one of these 
days when we begin to set things to rights in earnest 
and demand the same privileges for prince, peer, and 



Lunch at Annan. 245 

peasant. Don't let it be ' Auld Lang Syne,' either, for 
there is more of ' Peace and Good-will upon Earth,' 
the essence of true religion, in that grand song than 
in your effectual calling, Davie, my wee mannie. At 
least there is one who thinks so." Davie got my ad- 
dress, and said may be he would come to America when 
he grew to be a man. I promised to give him a chance 
if he had not forgotten Burns, which is all we can do in 
the Republic, where merit is the only road to success. 
We may make a Republican out of him yet, and have 
him return to his fellows to preach the equality of man, 
the sermon Scotland needs. 

We lunched at Annan. It was at first decided that 
we had better be satisfied with hotel accommodations, 
as the day though fine was cool, with that little nip in 
the air which gives it the bracing quality ; but after we 
had entered the hotel the sun burst forth, and the long- 
ing for the green fields could not be overcome. We 
walked through the village across the river, and found a 
pretty spot in a grove upon high ground commanding 
extensive views up and down the stream, and there we 
gave our new members their first luncheon. It would 
have been a great pity had we missed this picnic, for it 
was in every respect up to the standard. I laugh as I 
recall the difficulties encountered in selecting the fine 
site. The committee had fixed upon a tolerably good 
location in a field near the river, but this knoll was in 
sight, and we were tempted to go to it. We had gone 



246 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

so far from the hotel where the coach was, that Perry 
and Joe had to get a truck to bring the hampers. I 
remember seeing them pushing it across the bridge and 
up against the wall over which most of us had clambered. 
When the Queen Dowager's turn came the wall was 
found to be rather too much for her, but our managers 
were versatile. The truck was brought into requisition, 
and she was safely drawn from its platform over the 
wall. I stood back and could do nothing for laughter, 
but the Dowager, who was not to be daunted, went over 
amid the cheers of the party. It was resolved, however, 
to be a little more circumspect in future ; wall-climbing 
at seventy-one has its limits. 

Here is the bridge built by that worthy man and 
excellent representative of what is best in Scottish 
character in lowly life, James Carlyle — an honest brig 
destined to stand and never shame the builder. I re- 
member how proudly Carlyle speaks of his father's 
work. No sham about either the man or his work, as 
little as there was in his more famous son. I wish I 
could quote something from " Adam Bede " I think it is 
— where Garth the stone-mason thinks good work in 
his masonry the best prayer he had to stand upon. 

Many have expressed surprise at " Carlyle's Remi- 
niscences," at the gnarled, twisted oak they show, preju- 
diced here, ill-tempered there. What did such people 
expect, I wonder? A poor, reserved, proud Scotch lad, 
who had to fight his way against the grim devils of 



Carlyle and Black. 247 

poverty and neglect, of course he is twisted and 
" thrawn " ; but a grand, tough oak for all that, as 
sound, stanch timber as ever grew, and Scotch to the 
core. Did any one take you, Thomas Carlyle, for a fine, 
symmetrical sycamore, or a graceful clinging vine ? I 
think the " Reminiscences," upon the whole, a valuable 
contribution to literature. Nor has Carlyle suffered in 
my estimation from knowing so much of what one 
might have expected. But will these critics of a grand 
individuality be kind enough to tell us when we shall 
look upon his like again, or where another Jenny Car- 
lyle is to come from ? She is splendid ! The little 
tot who " bluided a laddie's nose " with her closed fist 
and conquered " the bubbley jock." This was in her 
early childhood's days, and look at her woman's work 
for Carlyle if you want a pattern for wives, my young 
lady friends, at least as a bachelor pictures wifehood at 
its best. The story told of Mr. Black's meeting with 
Carlyle should be true, if it be not. " Oh, Mr. Black," 
exclaimed Carlyle, " I'm glad to see ye, man. I've read 
some of yer books ; they're vera amusin' ; ye ken Scotch 
scenery well ; but when are yer goin' to do some wark, 
man ? " Great work did the old man do in his day, no 
doubt ; but they also work who plant the roses, Thomas, 
else were we little better than the beasts of the field. 
Carlyle did not see this. Black is doing his appointed 
work and doing it well too, and Scotland is proud of 
her gifted son. 



248 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Dumfries, July 16-17. 

We were at Dumfries for Sunday. We had just got 
housed at the hotel and* sat down to dinner when we 
heard a vehicle stop, and running to the window saw 
our anxiously expected Parisians at the door. Hurrah! 
welcome ! welcome ! Once more united, never to part 
again till New York be reached ! It was a happy 
meeting, and there was much to tell upon both sides, 
but the coachers evidently had the better of it. The 
extreme heat encountered in France had proved very 
trying. The Prima Donna was tired out. She vividly 
expressed her feelings thus, when asked how she had 
enjoyed life since she left the Ark : " Left the Ark ! 
I felt as if I had been poked out of it like the dove to 
find out about the weather, and had found it rough. 
When I lose sight of the coach again, just let me know 
it ! " We, on our part, were very glad to get our pretty 
little dove back, and promised that she should never be 
sent forth from among us again. 

One becomes confused at Dumfries, there is so 
much to learn. We are upon historic ground in the 
fullest sense, and so crowded too with notable men and 
events. Bruce slew the Red Comyn here in the church 
of the Minorite Friars, now no longer existing. The 
monastery, of which it formed a part, the foundation of 
the mother of John Baliol, King of Scotland, stood on 
an eminence, the base of which is washed on the north 
and west by the waters of the Nith. It is said to have 



Dumfries. 249 

been deserted after the pollution of its high altar with 
the blood of the Comyns, and about two centuries 
afterward the Maxwells built a splendid castle out of 
its ruins and almost on its site ; but the fortune of war 
and old Father Time levelled its massive walls in turn, 
and now no vestige remains of either monastery or 
castle. The castle of the Comyns, too, which occupied 
a romantic site a little way south of the town, at a 
place still called Castledykes, has left but slight memo- 
rials of its olden grandeur. 

Among the noted men of the world whom Dumfries 
numbers among her children are the Admirable Crichton, 
Paul Jones, Allan Cunningham, Carlyle, Neilson of 
the hot blast, Patterson, the founder of the Bank of 
England, and Miller of the steamship. Still another, 
a Scotch minister, was the founder of savings-banks. 
While not forgetting to urge his flock to lay up treas- 
ures in the next world, he did not fail to impress upon 
them a like necessity of putting by a competence for 
this one, sensible man ! How many ministers leave 
behind them as powerful an agency for the improve- 
ment of the masses as this Dumfries man, the Rev. Mr. 
Duncan, has in savings-banks ? All the speculative 
opinions about the other world which man can indulge 
in are as nothing to the acquisition of those good, 
sober, steady habits which render possible upon the 
part of the wage-receiving class a good deposit in that 
minister's savings-bank. The Rev. Mr. Duncan is my 



250 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

kind of minister, one who works much and preaches 
little. There is room for more of his kind. 

It is to Dumfries we are also indebted for the steam- 
ship, as far as Britain's share in that crowning triumph 
is concerned, for, upon Dalwinston Lake, Miller used 
the first paddles turned by steam. The great magician 
also has waved his wand over this district. Ellangowan 
Castle, Dirk Hatteraick's Cave, and even Old Mortality 
himself are all of Dumfries ; and as for Burns, there is 
more of his best work there than anywhere else, and 
there he lies at rest with the thistle waving over him, fit 
mourner for Scotland's greatest son, and of all others 
the one he would have chosen. How he loved it! 
Think of his lines about the emblem dear, written while 
still a boy. 

I wanted to stay a week in Dumfries, and I deemed 
myself fortunate to be able to spend Sunday there. Two 
Dunfermline gentlemen now resident there, Messrs. R. 
and A., were kind enough to call upon us and offer their 
services. This was thoughtful and pleased me much. 
Accordingly on Sunday morning we started with Mr. R. 
and did the town, Maxwelton Braes, Burns's house, and 
last his grave. None of us had ever been there before, 
and we were glad to make the pilgrimage. Horace 
Greeley (how he did worship Burns !) has truly said that 
of the thousands who yearly visit Shakespeare's birth- 
place, most are content to engrave their names with a 
diamond upon the glass, but few indeed leave the rest- 



Home of Burns. 251 

ing-place of the ploughman without dropping a tear 
upon the grave ; for of all men he it was who nestled 
closest to the bosom of humanity. It is true that of all 
the children of men Burns is the best beloved. Carlyle 
knew him well, for he said Burns was the ^Eolian harp 
of nature against which the rude winds of adversity blew, 
only to be transmitted in their passage into heavenly 
music. 

I think these are the two finest things that have 
been said about our idol, or about any idol, and I be- 
lieve them to be deserved. So did Carlyle and Greeley, 
for they were not flatterers. Of what other human 
being could these two things be truly said ? I know of 
none. 

Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. N., are the fortunate 
owners of Friars Carse estate. They called upon us Sun- 
day noon, and invited us to dine with them that evening. 
A delegation from the party accepted, and were much 
pleased with their visit. Friars Carse is a lovely spot. 
The winding Nith is seen at its best from the lawn. 
As we drove past on Monday we stopped and enjoyed 
a morning visit to our friends, who were exceedingly 
kind. Mr. N. has earned the grateful remembrance 
of every true lover of Burns by restoring the heritage 
and guarding with jealous care every vestige of one of 
the half dozen geniuses which the world will reverence 
more and more as the years roll by. He has wisely taken 
out the window upon the panes of which Burns wrote 



252 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

with a diamond, "Thou whom chance may hither 
lead," one of my favorites. This is now preserved, to 
be handed down as an heirloom in the family, finally, we 
hope, to find its place in some public collection. While 
we were in the mansion a granddaughter of Annie 
Laurie actually came in. I know of no young lady 
whose grandmother is so widely and favorably known. 
We were all startled to be brought so near to the ideal 
Annie Laurie of our dreams. It only shows that the 
course of true love never runs smooth when we hear 
that she did not marry the poetic lover. Well, may be 
she was happier with a dull country squire. Poets are 
not proverbially model husbands ; the better poet, the 
worse husband, and the writer of Annie Laurie had the 
poetic temperament pretty well developed. 

" Right, Perry ! " We are off for Sanquhar, twenty- 
eight miles away ; the day superb, with a freshness un- 
known in the more genial South we are rapidly leaving 

behind. What a pretty sight it was to see Miss N 

bounding along upon her horse in the distance, an avant 
courier leading us to a warm welcome at her beautiful 
home ! Would I had been beside her on Habeebah ! 
We spent an hour or two there, and then with three 
enthusiastic cheers for " Friars Carse and a' within it," the 
Charioteers drove off ; but long must fond recollections 
of that estate and of the faces seen there linger in our 
memories as among the most pleasing of our ever-mem- 
orable journey. A home upon the Nith near Dumfries 



Drtimlanrig Castle. 253 

has many attractions indeed. Our drive to-day lay 
along the Nith and through the Duke of Buccleugh's 
grounds to his noble seat, Drumlanrig Castle. Here we 
have a real castle at last ; none of your imported English 
affairs, as tame as caged tigers. How poor and insignifi- 
cant they all seem to such as this ! You want the 
moors, the hills and glens, and all the flavor of feudal 
institutions to give a castle its dignity and impress you 
with the thoughts of by-gone days. Modern castles in 
England built to order are only playthings, toys ; but in 
Scotland they are real and stir the chords. You can- 
not have in England a glen worthy of the name, with 
its dark amber-brown, foaming, rushing torrent dashing 
through it. We begin to feel the exhilarating influences 
of the North as we drive on, and to understand its charm. 
Byron says truly : 

" England ! thy beauties are tame and domestic 

To one who has roamed on the mountains afar. 
Oh, for the crags that are wild and majestic ! 
The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr." 

This was the feeling upon the coach to-day. My 
eyes watered now and then and my heart beat faster as 
the grandeur of the scenery and the influences around 
came into play. This was my land, England only a far- 
off connection, not one of the family. " And what do 
you think of Scotland noo ? " was often repeated. " The 
grandest day yet ! " was said more than once as we drove 
through the glen ; but this has been said so often dur= 



254 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

ing this wonderful expedition, and has so often been 
succeeded by a day which appeared to excel its famous 
predecessor, that we are careful now to emphasize the 
yet ; for indeed we feel that there is no predicting what 
glories Scotland may have in store for us beyond. 

Our luncheon to-day was taken upon the banks 
of the Nith ; an exquisitely beautiful spot. There was 
no repressing our jubilant spirits, and sitting there on 
the green sward the party burst into song, and one 
Scotch song followed another. There was a strange 
stirring of the blood, an exaltation of soul unknown be- 
fore. The pretty had been left behind, the sublime was 
upon us. There was a nip in the air unfelt in the more 
genial climate of the South. The land over which 
brooded peace and quiet content had been left behind, 
that of the " mountain and the flood "was here, whisper- 
ing of its power, swaying us to and fro and bending us 
to its mysterious will. In the sough of the wind comes 
the call of the genii to mount to higher heights, that we 
may exult in the mysteries of the mountain and the glen, 

" The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr." 

Even our songs had the wail of the minor key sug- 
gesting the shadows of human life, eras of storm and 
strife, of heroic endurance and of noble sacrifice ; the 
struggle of an overmatched people contending for 
generations against fearful odds and maintaining through 
all vicissitudes a distinctively national life. That is 



The Cameronians, 255 

what makes a Scotchman proud of this peculiar little 
piece of earth, and stirs his blood and fills his eyes as he 
returns to her bosom. 

We rested over Monday night, July 18th, at Sanqu- 
har, a long one-main-street village, whose little inn could 
not accommodate us all, but the people were kind, and 
the gentlemen of the party had no cause to complain of 
their quarters. It was here that the minister absolved 
the Cameronians from allegiance to " the ungodly king' 
— a great step. Those sturdy Cameronians probably 
knew little of Shakespeare, but I fancy the speech of 
that rebel minister could not have been better ended, or 
begun either, than with the outburst of Laertes to an- 
other wicked king: 

"I'll not be juggled with : 
To hell, allegiance ! " 

Bravo ! They would not be juggled with King Charles, 
neither will their descendants be, if any king hereafter 
is ever rash enough to try his " imperial " notions upon 
them. That day is past, thanks to that good minister 
and his Cameronians. I gazed upon the monument 
erected to these worthies, and gratefully remembered 
what the world owes to them. 

We stepped into a stationer's shop there and met 
a character. One side of the shop was filled with the 
publications of the Bible Society, the other with drugs. 
" A strange combination this," I remarked. 



256 Four-in-Hand i?i Britain. 

" Weel, man, no sae bad. Pheseek for the body an' 
pheseek for the soul. Castor oil and Bibles no sae bad." 

Harry and I laughed. 

" Have you the revised edition here yet ? "' I inquired. 

" Na, na, the auld thing here. Nane of yer new- 
fangled editions of the Scripture for us. But I hear 
they've shortened the Lord's Prayer. Noo, that's na a 

bad thing for them as hae to get up early in the morn- 

• > »» 
in s. 

He was an original, and we left his shop smiling at 

his way of putting things. Scotland is the land of odd 

characters. 



Sanquhar, July 18. 

We are off for old Cumnock, the entire village appar- 
ently out to see the start. Sanquhar on the moors does 
not seem to have many attractions, but last evening we 
had one of our pleasantest walks. There is a fine deep 
glen hid away between the hills, with a torrent rushing 
through it, over which bridges have been thrown. We 
were tempted to go far up the glen. The long gloam- 
ing faded away into darkness and we had a weird stroll 
home. It was after ten o'clock when we reached the 
hotel. This may be taken as a specimen of our even- 
ings ; there is always the long walk in the gloaming 
after dinner, which may be noted as one of the rare 
pleasures of the day. 

Our luncheon to-day could not be excelled, and in 



School Children. 257 

some features it was unique. The banks of Douglas 
Water was the site chosen. The stream divides, and a 
green island looked so enchanting that the committee 
set about planning means to cross to it. The steps of 
the coach formed a temporary bridge over which the 
ladies were safely conducted, but not without some 
danger of a spill. As many as thirty school children, 
then enjoying their summer vacation, followed, and after 
a while ventured to fraternize with us. Such a group of 
rosy, happy little ones it would be difficult to meet with 
out of Scotland. Children seem to flourish without 
care in this climate. The difference between the chil- 
dren of America and Britain is infinitely greater than 
that between the adults of the two countries. Scotch 
children learn to pronounce as the English do in the 
schools, but in their play the ancient Doric comes out 
in full force. It is all broad Scotch yet in conversation. 
This will no doubt change in time, but it seemed to us 
that so far they have lost very few of the Scotch words 
and none of the accent. We asked the group to ap- 
point one of their number to receive some money to buy 
"sweeties" for the party. Jeannie Morrison was the 
lassie proposed and unanimously chosen. Jeannie was 
in the sixth standard. In answer to an inquiry, it was 
at first said that no one else of the party was so far ad- 
vanced, but a moment's consultation resulted in a prompt 
correction, and then came : " Aye, Aggie McDonald is 
too." But not one of the laddies was beyond the fifth. 
17 



258 Four-in-Hcuid in Britain. 

Well, the women of Scotland always were superior to 
the men. If a workingman in Scotland does not get a 
clever managing wife (they are helpmeets there), he 
never amounts to much, and many a stupid man pulls 
up well through the efforts of his wife. It is much the 
same in France, or, indeed, in any country where the 
struggle for existence is hard and expenditure has to be 
kept down to the lowest point — so much depends upon 
the woman in this department. 

The shyness of these children surprised our Ameri- 
cans much. They could scarcely be induced to partake 
of cakes and jelly, which must be rare delicacies with 
them. I created a laugh by insisting that even after I 
had been in America several years I was as shy as any 
of these children. My friends were apparently indisposed 
to accept such an assertion entirely, but an appeal to 
Davie satisfied them of my modesty in early youth. 
" Ah, then ! " said Miss M. But this was cruel. 

We left some rare morsels for these children. When 
they had done cheering us at our departure, I warrant 
they " were nae blate." The dear little innocent, happy 
things ! I wish I could get among them again. What 
would not one give to get a fresh start, to be put back 
a child again, that he might make such a record as 
seems possible when looking backward ! How many 
things he would do that he did not do, how many things 
he would not do that he did do ! I sympathize with 
Faust, the offer was too tempting to be successfully 



A Pleasant Meeting. 259 

withstood. One point worth noting occurs to me. In 
looking back you never feel that upon any occasion you 
have acted too generously, but you often regret that 
you did not give enough, and sometimes that you did 
not give at all. The moral seems to be — always give 
the higher sum or do the most when in doubt. It seems 
to me that parents and others having charge of children 
might do more than is done to teach them the only means 
of making life worth living, and to point out to them 
the rocks and eddies from which they themselves have 
suffered damage in life's passage. 

With the cheers of the children ringing in our ears 
we started on our way. While stopping at the inn to 
return what had been lent us in the way of baskets, 
pitchers, etc., a lady drove up in a stylish phaeton, and, 
excusing herself for intruding, said that a coach was so 
rarely seen in those parts she could not resist asking who 
we were and whither bound. I gave her all desired in- 
formation, and asked her to please gratify our ladies by 
telling in return who she was. " Lady Stuart M." was 
the reply. She was of the M.'s of Closeburn Castle, as 
we learned from Mr. Murray, our landlord at Cumnock. 
The estate will go at her death to a nephew who is farm- 
ing in America. We thought there must be some good 
reason why he did not return and manage for his aunt, 
who indeed seems well qualified to manage for herself. 
The young exiled heir had our sympathy, but long may 
it be ere he enters upon Closeburn, for we were all heart- 



260 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 

ily in favor of a long and happy reign to the present 
ruler of that beautiful estate. Lady M. assured us that 
we would be well taken care of at the Dumfries Arms, 
and she was right. Mr. Murray and his handsome sisters 
will long be remembered as model hotel-keepers. They 
made our stay most agreeable. Mr. Murray took us to 
the Bowling Green in the evening, and many of our 
party saw the game for the first time. Great excitement 
prevails when the sides are evenly matched. It is, like 
the curling pond, a perfect republic. There is no rank 
upon the ice or upon the green in Scotland. The post- 
man will berate the provost for bad play at bowls, but 
touch his hat respectfully to him on the pavement. A 
man may be even a provost and yet not up to giving 
them a "Yankee" when called for. We were curious to 
know what a "Yankee" shot was, for we heard it called 
for by the captains every now and then. We were told 
that this was a shot which "knocked all before it, and 
played the very deevil." That is not bad. 

While a few of us who had recently seen the land of 
Burns remained at Cumnock, the remainder of the party 
drove to Ayr and saw all the sights there and returned 
in the evening. Our walks about Cumnock were delight- 
ful, and we left Mr. Murray's care with sincere regret. 



Old Cumnock, July 19. 
Passing out of the town this morning, we stopped at 
the prettiest little photographic establishment we had 



Our Photograph. 2 6i 

ever seen, and the artist succeeded in taking excellent 
views of the coach and party, as the reader may see by 
a glance at the frontispiece, where the original negative 
is reproduced by the artotype process. It was done in 
an instant ; we were taken ere we were aware. A great 
thing, that instantaneous photography; one has not 
time to look his very worst, as sitters usually contrive 
to do, ladies especially. It is so hard to be artificial 
and yet look pretty. 

" Right, Perry ! " and off we drove through the crowd 
for Douglas. The General Manager soon confided to 
me that for the first time he was dubious about our 
resting-place for the night. A telegram had been re- 
ceived by him from the landlord at Douglas just before 
starting, stating that the inn was full to overflowing 
v/ith officers of the volunteer regiment encamped there, 
and that it was impossible for him to provide for our 
party. What was to be done ? It was decided to in- 
form that important personage, mine host, that we were 
moving upon him, and that if he gave no quarters we 
should give none either. He must billet us somewhere; 
if not, then 

" A night in greenwood spent 
Were but to-morrow's merriment." 

But we felt quite sure that the town of Douglas 
would in council assembled extend a warm welcome to 
the Americans and see us safely housed, even if there 



262 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 

were not a hotel in the place. So on we went. While 
passing through Lugar, a pretty young miss ran out of 
the telegraph office, and holding up both hands, called : 
" Stop ! It's no aff yet ! it's no aff yet ! " A message was 
coming for the coaching party. It proved to be from 
our Douglas landlord, saying, All right ! he would do 
the best he could for us. When the party was informed 
how much we had been trusting in Providence for the 
past few hours, such was their enthusiasm that some dis- 
appointment was expressed at the reassuring character 
of the telegram. Not to know where we were going to 
be all night — may be to have to lie in and on the coach 
— would have been such fun ! But " Behind yon hill 
where Lugar flows," sung by Eliza, sounded none the 
less sweet when we knew we were not likely to have to 
camp out upon its pretty banks. It is essential for 
successful happy coaching with ladies that every com- 
fort should be provided. I am satisfied it would never 
do to risk the weaker sex coaching in any other land. 
The extreme comfort of everything here alone keeps 
them well and able to stand the gypsy life. 

We travelled most of the day among the ore lands and 
blast furnaces of the Scotch pig-iron kings, the Bairds. 
To reach Edinburgh we had to drive diagonally east- 
ward across the country, for we had gone to the west- 
ward that Dumfries and the Land of Burns might not 
be missed. This route took us through less frequented 
localities, off the main lines of travel, but our experience 



Scotch Weather. 263 

justified us in feeling that this had proved a great ad- 
vantage, for we saw more of Scotland than we should 
have done otherwise. 

Our luncheon to-day was a novel one in some re- 
spects. No inn was to be reached upon the moors, and 
feed for the horses had to be taken with us from Cum- 
nock ; but we found the prettiest little wimpling burn, 
across which a passage was made by throwing in big 
stones, for the shady dell was upon the far side. The 
horses were unhitched and allowed to nibble the way- 
side grass beside our big coach, which loomed up on the 
moor as if it were double its true size. 

The thistle and the harebell begin to deck our grassy 
tables at noon, and fine fields of peas and beans scent 
the air. All is Scotch ; and oh, that bracing breeze, 
which cools deliciously the sun's bright rays, confirms 
us in the opinion that no weather is like Scotch weather, 
when it is good ; when it is not I have no doubt the 
same opinion is equally correct, but we have no means 
of judging. Scotland smiles upon her guests, and we 
love her with true devotion in return. " What do you 
think of Scotland noo?" came often to-day; but words 
cannot express what we do think of her. In the lan- 
guage of one of our young ladies, " She is just lovely ! " 

The question came up to-day at luncheon, would one 
ever tire of this gypsy life? and it was unanimously 
voted never! At least no one could venture to name e. 
time when he would be ready to return to the prosy rou- 



264 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

tine of ordinary existence while blessed with such weather 
and such company. Indeed, this nomadic life must be 
the hardest of all to exchange for city life. It is so dia- 
metrically opposed to it in every phase. " If I were not 
the independent gentleman I am," says Lamb, " I 
should choose to be a beggar." " Chapsey me a gypsy," 
gentle Elia, you could not have known of that life, or 
perhaps you considered it and the beggar's life identical. 
But, mark you, there is a difference which is much more 
than a distinction. A gypsy cannot beg, but he or she 
tells fortunes, tinkers a little and deals in horses. Even 
if he steals a little now and then, I take it he is still within 
the lines of the profession ; while your beggar who does 
anything in the way of work, or who steals, is no true 
man. His license is for begging only. The gypsy ob- 
viously has the wider range, and I say again, therefore, 
" Chapsey me a gypsy," gentle Elia. 

Davie and I walked over to the railway line after 
luncheon to have a talk with the surfacemen we saw at 
work. They were strong, stalwart men, and possessed 
of that shrewd, solid sense which is invariably found in 
Scotch workmen. Their pay seemed very small to us; 
the foreman got only twenty shillings per week ($5), 
while the ordinary surfaceman got fourteen shillings 
($3'5°)« Although this was only a single-track branch 
line, it was almost as well laid as the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road. None of the men had ever been in America, 
but several had relatives there who were doing well, 



Home Castle. 265 

and they looked forward to trying the new land some 
day. 

We reached pretty Douglas in the evening, and 
sounded our horn longer than usual to apprize mine host 
that the host was upon him. We were greatly pleased 
to see him and his good wife standing in the door of the 
inn with pleasant, smiling faces to greet us. They had 
arranged everything for our comfort. Many thanks to 
those gentlemanly officers who had so kindly given up 
their rooms to accommodate their American cousins. 
Quarters for the gentlemen had been found in the vil- 
lage, and Joe and Perry and the horses were all well 
taken care of. Thus we successfully passed through 
the only occasion where there seemed to be the slightest 
difficulty about our resting-place for the night. 

Douglas, the ancient seat of that family so noted 
in Scotland's history, is really worth a visit. Home 
Castle, their residence, is a commanding pile seen for 
many miles up the valley as we approach the town. 
Our visit to it was greatly enjoyed, we had such a 
pretty walk in the evening, and a rest on the slope 
of the hill overlooking the castle. We lay there in 
the grass and enjoyed the quiet Scotch gloaming 
which was gathering round us, and so silently, so slowly 
shutting in the scene. The castle upon the left below 
us, the Douglas water so placidly gliding through the 
valley at our feet, the old church where lay moulder- 
ing generations of the Douglases, and the dark woods 



266 Foiir-in-Hand in Britain. 

beyond, formed a picture which kept us long upon 
the hill. 

In their day, what bustling men were these doughty 
Douglases — full of sturt and strife — the very ideal repre- 
sentatives of the warrior bold, who made their way and 
held their own by the strength of their good right arms. 

" A steede, a steede of matchless speede, 
A sword of metal keene, 
All else to noble minds is dross, 
All else on earth is meane ; 
And O the thundering press of knights, 
When loud their war cries swell, 
Might serve to call a saint from heaven 
Or rouse a fiend from helle." 

This was their ideal — the very reverse, thank God, of the 
ideal of to-day — but note how peacefully they lie now 
in the little antiquated church in this obscure valley. 
What shadows we are ! What shadows we pursue ! This 
vein once started in the Scotch gloaming upon the hills, 
where the coloring of the scene is so sombre as to be not 
only seen but felt, must be indulged in sparingly, or some 
of the Charioteers might soon have to record a new ex- 
perience — a fit of the blues. But this was prevented by 
comparing the advance made by the race upon this 
question of war within the past century. The " pro- 
fession of arms " is very soon to be rated as it deserves. 
The apology for it will be the same as for any other 
of the butchering trades — it is necessary. Granted for 



Epitaphs. 267 

the present, but what of the nature which selects such 
a profession ! 

The inscriptions upon the tombs of the Douglases re- 
called other epitaphs ; some one said of all the inscrip- 
tions yet seen, he thought that upon the tomb of the 
Duke of Devonshire gave us the best lesson. 
It runs thus: 

" Who lyeth heare ? 
Ye gude Yearle of Devenshere — 
"What he had is gone, 
What he kept is lost, 
What he gave — that he hath." 

We were on the verge of moralizing. Some one 
scenting the danger, said he thought an equally sugges- 
tive epitaph headed one of the chapters of " David El- 
ginbrod " : 

" Here lies David Elginbrod, • 
Hae mercy on his soul, oh God ! 
As he'd a-had, had he been God, 
An ye'd been David Elginbrod." 

Yes, there is food for thought here too. David must 
have been a queer one. 

The sky grew darker, and the far-off woods faded into 
a cloud upon the horizon ; the party rose, and in so do- 
ing regained their usual hilarity — forgot all about tombs 
and were off for a run hand-in-hand down the gentle 
slope to the valley, shouting and laughing in great glee — 
and so on over the pretty bridge to their delightful inn. 



268 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Douglas, July 20. 
Edinburgh, Scotia's darling seat, only forty-four miles 
distant. All aboard, this pretty morning, for Edin- 
burgh ! " Right, Perry !" and off we went quite early 
through Douglas, for the capital. Our path was 
through woods for several miles, and we listened to 
the birds and saw and heard many of the incidents of 
morn so prettily described by Beattie: 

" The wild brook babbling down the mountain-side, 
The lowing herd ; the sheep-fold's simple bell ; 
The hum of bees, and linnet's lay of love, 
And the full choir that wakes the universal grove." 

It was to be a long day's drive, but an easy one ; 
only one hill, and then a gradual descent all the way 
to Edinburgh. So it might have been by the other 
road, but the mile-stones which told us so many miles 
to Edinburgh should also have said : " Take the new 
road ; this is the old one, over the hills and far away." 
But they did not, and we could not be wrong, for 
this was a way, if not the way, to " Auld Reekie." 
After all, it was one of the richest of our experiences 
as we look back upon it now. So many hills to walk 
up and so many to walk down ; so many moors with 
not a house to be seen, nothing but sheep around us 
and the lights and shadows of a Scotch sky overhead. 
But it was grand, and recalled some of Black's wonder- 
ful pen pictures. And then we enjoyed the heather 
which we found in its beauty, though scarcely yet 



Sheep and Collies. 269 

tinted with its richest glow of color. This was our 
introduction to it. The heathery moor was new to 
most of the party and many were the exclamations pro- 
duced by its beauty. There's " meat and drink " to a 
Scotchman in the scent of the heather. 

About luncheon time we began to look longingly 
for the expected inn, but there was no habitation 
to be seen, and we became suspicious that, notwith- 
standing the mile-stones, which stood up and told us the 
lie which was half the truth (ever the blacker lie), we 
were not upon the right road to Edinburgh. At this 
juncture we met a shepherd with his collies, and learnt 
from him that we were still twelve miles from an inn. 
It was a cool, breezy day ; the air had the " nip " in it 
which Maggie missed so in England, and we were fam- 
ishing. There was nothing else to do but to stop where 
we were, at the pretty burn, and tarry there for enter- 
tainment for man and beast. 

As proof of our temperance, please note that the 
flasks filled with sherry, whiskey, and brandy, at Brigh- 
ton, I believe, as reserve forces for emergencies, still had 
plenty in them when called for to-day ; and rarely has a 
glass of spirits done greater good, the ladies as well as 
we of the stronger sex feeling that a glass was necessary 
to keep off a chill. We were " o'er the moors among the 
heather " in good earnest to-day, but how soon we were 
all set to rights and laughing over our frolic ! The shep- 
herd and his dogs lunched with us, and many a glint of 



270 Four -in-Hand in Britain. 

Scottish shepherd life did we get from his conversation. 
He was a happy, contented man, and ever so grateful 
that he was not condemned to live in a city. He 
thought such a cramped-up life would soon kill him. 

Good-bye, my gentle shepherd and " Tweed " and 
" Rab," your faithful, sagacious companions. Your life 
leads to contentment, and where will you find that jewel 
when you leave mother earth and her products, her 
heather and her burns, your doggies and your sheep ? 

Davie, in Andrew M 's absence, sang us that 

song whose prettiest verse, though all are fine, is this : 

" See yonder paukie shepherd 
Wha lingers on the hill, 
His ewes are in the fauld 
And his sheep are lying still." 

Softly, softly, pianissimo, my boy! These lines 
must be sung so, not loudly like the other verses. 
Andrew knows the touch. 

" But he downa gang to rest, 
For his heart is in a flame 
To meet his bonnie lassie, 
When the kye come hame." 

And so we parted from our shepherd, the chorus of 
our song reaching him over the moors till he faded out 
of sight. I am sure we wish him week Happiness is 
not all in the higher walks of life ; and surely in vir- 
tue's paths the cottage leaves the palace far behind. 



Arthurs Seat. 271 

Another song followed, which I thought equally ap- 
propriate, for it tells us that " Ilka blade o' grass keps 
its ain drap o' dew." Ah, the shepherd's drops of the 
dew of life are often what princes vainly sigh for. 

After many miles up and down, we finally reached 
the top of the hill from which we saw lying before us, 
fourteen miles away, the modern Athens. There "Was 
no mistaking Arthur's Seat, the lion crouching there. 
" Stop, Perry ! " Three times three for the " Queen of 
the Unconquered North ! " " What do you think of 
Scotland noo ? " Match that city who can ! Not \on 
this planet will you do it, search where you may. 

It was only a few miles from where we now stood 
that Fitz Eustace, enraptured with the scene, 

" And making demi-volte in air, 
Cried, Where's the coward that would not dare 
To fight for such a land ! " 

Fight for it ? I guess so, to the death ! Scotland 
forever ! 

We were about completing one stage of our journey, 
for Edinburgh had been looked forward to as one of the 
principal points we had to reach, and we were to rest 
there a few days before marching upon the more ancient 
metropolis, Dunfermline. Most of us had been steadily 
at work since we left Brighton, and the prospect of a 
few days' respite was an agreeable one ; but after all it 
was surprising how fresh even the ladies were. Still, 



272 Four-in-Ha,7id in Britain. 

steady coaching is pretty hard work ; none of us gained 
weight during the journey, but we all felt as if in con- 
dition just fit to do our very best in the way of athletic 
exercise. 

Miss R , a native of Edinburgh, was here called 

to' the front, alongside of Perry, to act as guide into and 
through the city to our hotel in Prince's Street. The 
enthusiasm grew more and more intense as we came 
nearer and fresh views were obtained. There remained 
one more toll-gate, one of the few which have not yet 
beem abolished. Joe had as usual gone forward to pay 
the toll, but the keeper declared she did not know the 
'charge, as never since she kept toll had anything like 
that — pointing to the coach — passed there. Was it any 
wonder that we attracted attention during our progress 
northward ? 

From one hill-top I caught sight of the sparkling 
Forth, beyond which lay " the dearest spot on earth to 
me." The town could not be seen, but when I was able 
to cry, " Dunfermline lies there," three rousing cheers 
were given for the " Auld gray Toon," my native city. 



Edinburgh, July 21-26. 
Our route lay through Newington, that we might 
leave the young artist at home. We tried to do it 
quietly, but our friend Mrs. H. was out and shaking 
hands with us ere we could drive off. Mr. MacGregor, of 
the Royal, had been mindful of us ; a grand sitting room 



Edinburgh. 



273 



fronting on Prince's Street and overlooking the gardens 
gave us the best possible view, the very choice spot of 
all this choice city. The night was beautiful, and the 
lights from the towering houses of the old town made 
an illumination, as it were, in honor of our arrival. That 
the travellers were delighted with Edinburgh, that it 
more than fulfilled all expectations, is to say but little ; 
and those who saw it for the first time felt it to be be- 
yond all that they had imagined. Those of us who 
knew its picturesque charms were more than ever im- 
pressed with its superiority over all other cities. Take 
my word for it, my readers, there is no habitation of 
human beings in this world as fine in its way, and its 
way itself is fine, as this, the capital of Scotland. 

The surprise and delight of my friends gave me much 
pleasure. Scotland had already won all hearts. They 
had admired England, but Scotland they loved. Ah, 
how could they help it ! I loved her too, more deeply 
than ever. 

It is best to disband a large party when in a city 
possessed of many and varied attractions, allowing each 
little group to see the sights in its own way ; assembling, 
however, at breakfast and dinner, and spending the even- 
ings together, recounting the day's adventures. This 
was the general order issued for Edinburgh. 

The new docks at Leith were opened with much cer- 
emony during our stay, and I took a party of our Edin- 
burgh friends upon the coach to witness the opening. It 



274 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

was not a clear day, meteorologically considered, but 
nevertheless it was a happy one for the coaching party. 
Upon our return, a stop at Mr. N.'s magnificent resi- 
dence was specially agreeable. He and his daughters 
were most kind to us while in Edinburgh. Mr. N. gave 
us a rare treat by showing us through their immense 
printing establishment, where such exquisite things are 
done, such Easter and Christmas cards, such friendship 
tokens, and a thousand other lovely forms we had never 
seen before, in their various stages of manufacture. 

I asked Mr. N. what he had to say in reply to the 
admissions of the leading art authorities of the superior- 
ity of American work in black and white, such as our 
magazines excel in. He said this could not be ques- 
tioned ; there was nothing done in British publications 
that equalled the American. The reason he gave fur- 
nishes food for thought. I pray you, fellow country- 
men, take note of it. Two principal American illus- 
trated magazines, Harper s and the Century, print each 
more than one hundred thousand copies, while no Brit- 
ish magazine prints half that number. The American 
publisher can consequently afford to pay twice as much 
as the British publisher for his illustrations. If this be 
the true reason of America's superiority in this respect, 
and I am sure Mr. N. knows what he is stating, then as 
its population increases more rapidly than the British 
the difference between their respective publications must 
increase, and finally drive the home article into a very 



Valuable Importations. 275 

restricted position. Pursuing this fact to its logical con- 
clusion, Britain may soon receive from her giant child 
all that is best in any department of art which depends 
upon general support for success. This seems to me to 
betoken a revolution, not as implying the inherent supe- 
riority of the American, but simply flowing from the fact 
that fifty-five millions of English-speaking and reading 
people can afford to spend more for any certain article 
than thirty-five millions can. That Colonel Mapleson 
now brings over Her Majesty's Opera Company for the 
New York season as regularly as he opens his London 
season, and especially that he makes far more profit out 
of the former than out of the latter, is another significant 
fact. That leading actors find a wider field here than at 
home is still another, and even ministers are finding that 
the call of the Lord to higher labors and higher salaries 
often comes from the far side of the Atlantic. Drs. 
McCosh, Hall, Ormiston, and Taylor, our leading divines, 
get treble salaries in the Republic, and are said to be 
valuable importations. As Mr. Evarts said one night in 
a post-prandial effort : " They are about the only speci- 
mens of 'the cloth' admitted duty free." As long as 
America sent Britain only pork and cheese and provi- 
sions, and such products of the soil, it was all well 
enough, but if she is beginning to send the highest 
things of life, the art treasures, which give sweetness 
and light to human existence, it is somewhat alarming. 
For my part, I do not like to think that these Ameri- 



276 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

cans are to send Britain every good thing, and that the 
once proud country that led the world is to stand receiv- 
ing as it were the crumbs from this rich land's table. In 
one department America can be kept second for as long 
a term as we need worry about — she has nothing to 
compare with the leading English reviews. Our gen- 
eration will see no close rival to the FortnigJitly or the 
Nineteenth Century, to Blackwood or Chambers Journal, 
or to the Edinburgh or Westminster Review ; although 
the North American and the International show that 
even in this race America enters two not indifferent 
steeds. 

I must not forget to mention that the birds in the 
Century magazine which the Athcnamm pronounced so 
far superior to any British work were designed by a 
young lady and engraved by her sister. The work of 
two American young ladies excelled the best of Eng- 
land ; and then did not Miss Rosina Emmet send a 
Christmas greeting of her own composition to friends in 
England which took the second prize at the London 
Exhibition, although not intended for anything more 
than a private token of friendship. Let a note be made 
of all this, with three loving cheers for the young lady 
artists of the Republic. Instead of losing the charms 
of women by giving public expression to their love of 
the beautiful in all its forms, they but add one more in- 
describable charm which their less fortunate sisters can 
never hope to attain. How a man does reverence a 



On a Yacht. 277 

woman who does fine things in art, literature, or music, 
or in any line whatever ! 

The Charioteers gave leave of absence to the Scribe 
and General Manager to spend Sunday with my friends 
Mr. and Mrs. G., at Strathairly House, on the banks of 
the Forth. It was a most delightful visit. The Com- 
modore of the Forth Yachting Squadron (for such Mr. 
G. is) had the Ranee ready to take us back to Edin- 
burgh Monday morning. We enjoyed the sail down 
the Forth very much. That we could not accept the 
Commodore's invitation to change the Gay Char- 
ioteers into Bold Mariners for a day and visit St. 
Andrews in the Ranee gave rise to deep regret, when 
the other members of the party were informed of the 
treat proposed ; but we cannot glean every field upon 
our march. Some other time, Commodore, the recently 
elected member of the squadron will report for duty on 
the flagship and splice the main brace with you and 
your jolly crew. There is a craze for yachting in Brit- 
ain, which is also showing its symptoms on this side. I 
am not at home in vessels much smaller than an Atlantic 
steamer. The Charioteers resolved unanimously that 
their yacht should have four wheels and four horses, and 
should run on land. 

Upon our return to Edinburgh Monday morning, 
the first rumbling of the distant thunder from Dunferm- 
line was heard, and it dawned upon us that serious work 
was at hand. Our friend Mr. D., of the Council, had 



278 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

called upon us and intimated that something of a 
demonstration might be made upon our arrival in my 
native town ; but when I found a telegram from Mr. 
Simpson, the clerk, asking us to postpone our coming 
for a day, I knew there was an end to play. Things 
looked serious, but I was not going to be the sole suf- 
ferer. At dinner I laid it down as the law from which 
there could be no appeal, that if any public speaking 
were to be done, Messrs. P., McC, K., the General 
Manager, and V., were in for it. It is surprising 
how much it mitigates one's own troubles to see his 
dearest friends more frightened than himself. I grew 
bolder as I encouraged these victims. Their speeches 
were bound to be hits — no speeches have so often cre- 
ated sensations as maiden efforts. The last two offered 
great inducements to the ladies if they would vote that 
they should be excused. As for the others, I made it a 
question of ministerial confidence, and the administra- 
tion was sustained. If you read their speeches I am 
sure you will see the wisdom of my selections. 

I was glad to see Sir Noel Paton, Dunfermline's most 
distinguished son, able to be at his sister's that evening. 
The recent narrow and heroic escape from drowning of 
himself, Lady Paton, and his son Victor, gave us all 
renewed interest in grasping his hand again. Thrown 
from a small sail-boat into the sea, at least two hundred 
yards from shore, with ropes and sail tangled about 
them, the three rallied to each other's support (for all 



Dunfermline. 2 79 

could swim), and bore each other up until finally Lady 
Paton got between her husband and son, with one hand 
on the shoulder of each, and thus they struggled grandly 
to shore. Where is another trio that could do that, 
think you ? I tell you, who don't know Dunfermline, 
that these Patons were always a marked family, and 
have had genius hovering about their pretty home for 
generations, and now and then touching the heads and 
hearts of father, sons, and daughters with its creative 
wand. There is a great deal in blood, no doubt, but the 
blood from an honest weaver or shoemaker is, as a rule, 
a much better article, something to be much prouder of, 
than you find from nobles whose rise came from such 
conduct as should make their descendants ashamed to 
talk of descent. It's a God's mercy we are all from 
honest weavers ; let us pity those who haven't ancestors 
of whom they can be proud, dukes or duchesses though 
they be. 



Dunfermline, July 27-28. 
Put all the fifty days of our journey together, and 
we would have exchanged them all for rainy ones if we 
could have been assured a bright day for this occasion. 
It came, a magnificent day. The sun shone forth as if 
glad to shine upon this the most memorable day of my 
mother's life or of mine, as far as days can be rendered 
memorable by the actions of our fellow-men. We left 
Edinburgh and reached Queensferry in time for the noon 



280 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

boat. Here was the scene so finely given in " Marmion," 
which I tried, however, in vain to recall as I gazed upon 
it. If Dunfermline and its thunders had not been in the 
distance, I think I could have given it after a fashion, 
but I failed altogether that morning. 

" But northward far, with purer blaze, 
On Ochil mountains fell the rays, 
And as each heathy top they kissed, 
It gleamed a purple amethyst. 
Yonder the shores of Fife you saw, 
Here Preston Bay, and Berwick Law ; 
And broad between them rolled, 
The gallant Firth the eye might note, 
Whose islands on its bosom float, 
Like emeralds chased in gold." 

And truly it was a morning in which nature's jewels 
sparkled at their best. Upon reaching the north shore 
we were warmly greeted by Uncle and Aunt, and Maggie 
and Annie. It was decided better not to risk luncheon 
in the ruins of Rosythe Castle, as we had intended, the 
grass being reported damp from recent rains. We ac- 
cordingly drove to the inn, but we were met at the door 
by the good landlady, who, with uplifted hands, ex- 
claimed : " I'm a' alane! There's naebody in the house ! 
They're a' awa' to Dunfermline ! There'll be great goings 
on there the day." 

A hotel without one servant. The good woman, 
however, assured us we might come in and help our- 



A Trying Or deal. 281 

selves to anything in the house ; so we managed to en- 
joy our luncheon, though some of us only after a fashion. 
There were three gentlemen, a wife, and a cousin, who 
for the first time did not care much for anything in the 
form of luncheon. Speeches, speeches, these are what 
troubled Harry, Davie and me; and I had cause for 
grave alarm, of which they could form little idea, for I 
felt that if Dunfermline had been touched and her 
people had determined to give us a public reception, 
there was no saying to what lengths they might go. 

If I could decently have stolen away and gone 
round by some circuitous route, sending my fellow 
townsmen an apology, and telling them that I really felt 
myself unable to undergo the ordeal, I should have been 
tempted to do so. I was also afraid that the Queen 
Dowager would break down, for if ever her big black 
eyes get wet it's all over with her. How fortunate it 
was that Mrs. H. was with her to keep her right ! It 
was wisely resolved that she should take her inside of 
the coach and watch over her. I bit my lip, told the 
Charioteers they were in for it and must go through 
without flinching, that now the crisis had come I was 
just bound to stand anything. I was past stage-fright, 
and I assured myself that they could do their worst — I 
was callous and would not be moved — but to play the 
part of a popular hero even for a day, wondering all the 
time what you have done to deserve the outburst, is 
fearful work. When I did get time to think of it, my 



282 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

tower of strength lay in the knowledge that the spark 
which had set fire to their hearts was the Queen Dowa- 
ger's return and her share in the day's proceedings. 
Grand woman, she has deserved all that was done in her 
honor even on that day. 

A man stopped us at the junction of the roads to 
inform us that we were expected to pass through the 
ancient borough of Innerkeithing ; but I forgot myself 
there. It seemed a fair chance to escape part of the 
excitement (we had not yet begun the campaign as it 
were) ; at all events I dodged to escape the first fire, as 
raw troops are always said to do, and so we took the 
direct road. When the top of the Ferry Hills was 
reached we saw the town, all as dead as if the holy Sab- 
bath lay upon it, without one evidence of life. How 
beautiful is Dunfermline seen from the Ferry Hills, its 
grand old abbey towering over all, seeming to hallow 
the city and to lend a charm and dignity to the lowliest 
tenement. Nor is there in all broad Scotland, nor in 
many places elsewhere, that I know of, a more varied 
and delightful view than that obtained from the park 
upon a fine day. What Benares is to the Hindoo, 
Mecca to the Mohammedan, Jerusalem to the Chris- 
tian, all that Dunfermline is to me. 

But here I must stop. If you want to learn how 
impulsive and enthusiastic the Scotch are when once 
aroused, how dark and stern and true is the North, and 
yet how fervid and overwhelming in its love when the 



The Free Library. 283 

blood is up, I do not know where you will find a better 
evidence of it than in what followed. See how a small 
spark kindled so great a flame. The Queen Dowager 
and I are still somewhat shamefaced about it, but some- 
how or other we managed to go through with our parts 
without breaking down. 

The Queen Dowager had been chosen to lay the 
Memorial Stone of the Free Library, and the enthusi- 
asm of the people was aroused by her approach. There 
was something of the fairy tale in the fact that she had 
left her native town, poor, thirty odd years before, with 
her loved ones, to found a new home in the great Re- 
public, and was to-day returning in her coach, to be al- 
lowed the privilege of linking her name with the annals 
of her beloved native town in one of the most enduring 
forms possible; for whatever agencies for good may 
rise or fall in the future, it seems certain that the Free 
Library is destined to stand and become a never-ceasing 
foundation of good to all the inhabitants. Well, the 
future historian of that ancient town will record that on 
this day, under bright sunshine, and amidst the plau- 
dits of assembled thousands, the Queen Dowager laid 
the Memorial Stone of the building, an honor, com- 
pared with which, I was charged to tell the citizens, 
in the Queen Dowager's estimation, Queen Victoria 
has nothing in her power to bestow. So say also the 
sons of the Queen Dowager. The ceremonies passed 
off triumphantly. The procession, workingmen and 



284 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

address, banquet, and all the rest of it may be sum- 
med up in the remark of the Dunfermline press : " The 
demonstration may be said to be unparalleled in the 
history of Dunfermline." 

I will not be tempted to say anything further about 
this unexpected upheaval except this : after we had 
stopped and saluted the Stars and Stripes, displayed 
upon the Abbey Tower in graceful compliment to my 
American friends (no foreign flag ever floated there 

before, said our friend, Mr. R , keeper of the ruins), 

we passed through the archway to the Bartizan, and at 
this moment came the shock of all that day to me. I 
was standing on the front seat of the coach with Pro- 
vost Walls when I heard the first toll of the abbey bell. 
My knees sank from under me, the tears came rushing 
before I knew it, and I turned round to tell the Provost 
that I must give in. For a moment I felt as if I were 
about to faint. Fortunately I saw that there was no 
crowd before us for a little distance. I had time to re- 
gain control, and biting my lips till they actually bled, 
I murmured to myself, " No matter, keep cool, you 
must go on ; " but never can there come to my ears on 
earth, nor enter so deep into my soul, a sound that 
shall haunt and subdue me with its sweet, gracious, 
melting power like that. 

By that curfew bell I had been laid in my little 
couch to sleep the sleep of childish innocence. Father 
and mother, sometimes the one, sometimes the other, 



The Abbey Bell. 285 

had told me, as they bent lovingly over me, night after 
night, what that bell said as it tolled. Many good 
words has that bell spoken to me through their trans- 
lations. No wrong thing did I do through the day 
which that voice from all I knew of heaven and the 
great Father there did not tell me kindly about ere I 
sank to sleep, speaking the very words so plainly that I 
knew that the power that moved it had seen all and was 
not angry, never angry, never, but so very, very sorry. 
Nor is that bell dumb to me to-day when I hear its 
voice. It still has its message, and now it sounded to 
welcome back the exiled mother and son under its pre- 
cious care again. 

The world has not within its power to devise, much 
less to bestow upon us, such a reward as that which the 
abbey bell gave when it tolled in our honor. But my 
brother Tom should have been there also ; this was the 
thought that came. He, too, was beginning to know 
the wonders of that bell ere we were away to the newer 
land. 

Rousseau wished to die to the strains of sweet music. 
Could I choose my accompaniment, I could wish to pass 
into the dim beyond with the tolling of the abbey bell 
sounding in my ears, telling me of the race that had been 
run, and calling me, as it had called the little white- 
haired child, for the last time — to sleep. 

We spent two days in Dunfermline. The tourist 
who runs over from Edinburgh will find the Abbey and 



286 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

the Palace ruins well worthy a visit. Take a day and 
see them, is my advice. Queen Margaret, King Robert 
the Bruce, and many other Kings and Queens are in- 
terred in the Abbey, for this was the capital of Scotland 
long ere Edinburgh rose to importance. Who does not 
remember the famous ballad of Sir Patrick Spens : 

" The King sits in Dunfermline toon, 
Drinking the bluid red wine ; 
Oh where will I get a skelly skipper 
To sail this ship of mine." 

Dunfermline is now the principal seat of the damask 
manufacture. Americans will be interested in knowing 
that at least. two-thirds of all the table linen made in 
the eleven factories here are for republican use. While 
we were there the rage was for designs showing the 
American race-horse Iroquois leading all the fleet steeds 
of England; now it is said to be for "Jumbo " patterns. 

A visit to one of the leading factories cannot fail to be 
interesting to the sight-seer, and to such as may go I sug- 
gest that a good look be taken at the stalwart lassies and 
good-looking young women who work there. Several 
thousand of them marched in the procession formed to 
greet us at the city line, and their comely appearance 
and the good taste shown in their dress surprised the 
coaching party very agreeably. Indeed, our Poetaster 
improvised a verse which illustrates the change which 
has come over the ancient capital since the days of Sir 
Patrick Spens, and gave it to us as we rolled along : 



The New Kings. 287 

" The old Kings sat in Dunfermline town, 
Drinking- the blood red wine ; 
The new Kings are at better work, 
Weaving the damask fine." 

Quite correct, Davie. Does not Holy Writ declare 
that the diligent man shall stand before Kings ? And 
is it not time that the bibulous King should give place 
to the useful citizen — the world over ! 

Friday was a cloudy day, but some of our friends, 
who spent the early morning with us and saw us off, 
unanimously predicted that it would clear. They 
proved true weather prophets, for it did turn out to be 
a bright day. Passing the residence of Colonel Myers, 
the American Consul, we drove in and gave that repre- 
sentative of the great Republic and his wife three fare- 
well cheers. 



Kinross, Friday, July 28. 
Kinross was the lunching-place. Mother was for the 
first and last time compelled to seek the inside for a few 
hours after leaving Dunfermline. These farewells from 
those near and dear to you are among the cruelest 
ordeals one has to undergo in life. One of the most 
desirable arrangements held out to us in all that is said 
of heaven is to my mind that there shall be no parting 
there. Hell might be invested with a new horror by 
having them daily. 



288 Four-in- Hand in Britain. 

We had time while at Kinross to walk along Loch 
Leven and see the ruined castle upon the island, from 
which Douglas rescued Queen Mary. What a question 
this of Mary Queen of Scots is in Scotland ! To intimate 
a doubt that she was not purity itself suffices to stir up 
a warm discussion. Long after a " point of divinity " 
ceases to be the best bone to snarl over, this Queen 
Mary question will probably still serve the purpose. 
What matters it what she was ? It is now a case of 
beauty in distress, and we cannot help sympathizing 
with a gentle, refined woman (even if her refinement 
was French veneering), surrounded by rude, coarse men. 
What is the use of " argie bargieing" about it? Still, 
I suppose, we must have a bone of some kind, and this 
is certainly a more sensible one than the " point of 
divinity," which happily is going somewhat out of 
fashion. 

To-day's talk on the coach was all of the demonstra- 
tion at Dunfermline, and one after another incident was 

recalled. Bailie W was determined we should learn 

what real Scotch gooseberries are, and had put on the 
coach an immense basketful of them. " We never can 
dispose of so many," was the verdict at Kinross ; at 
Perth it was modified, and ere Pitlochrie was reached 
the verdict was reversed and more wished for. Our 
American friends had never known gooseberries before, 
friend Bailie, so they said. 

Fair Perth was to be our resting-place, but before 



The Carse of Gowrie. 289 

arriving there the pedestrians of the party had one of 
their grandest excursions, walking through beautiful 
Glen Farg. They were overpowered at every turn by 
its loveliness, and declared that there is nothing like it 
out of Scotland. The ferns and the wild flowers, in all 
their dewy freshness after the rains, made us all young 
again, and the glen echoed our laughter and our songs. 
The outlet from the glen into the rich Carse of Gowrie 
gave us another surprise worthy of record. There is 
nothing, I think, either in Britain or America, that is 
equal in cultivation to the famous Carse of Gowrie. 
They will be clever agriculturists who teach the farmers 
of the Carse how to increase very greatly the harvest of 
that portion of our good mother earth. Davie began to 
see how it is that Scotland grows crops that England 
cannot rival. Perthshire is a very beautiful county, 
neither Highland nor Lowland, but occupying, as it 
were, the golden mean between, and possessed of many 
of the advantages of both. 



Perth, Saturday, July 29. 
The view from the hill-top overlooking Perth is 
superb. " Fair Perth indeed ! " we all exclaim. The 
winding Tay, with one large sail-boat gliding on its 
waters, the fertile plains beyond, and the bold crag at 
the base of which the river sweeps down, arrested the 
attention of our happy pedestrians and kept them long 
upon the hill. I had never seen Perth before, and it was 
19 



290 Four -in- Hand in Britain. 

a surprise to me to find its situation so very fine; but 
then we are all more and more surprised at what Scot- 
land has to show when thoroughly examined. The finer 
view from the hill of Kinnoul should be seen, if one 
would know of what Scotland has to boast. 

Antiquaries refer the foundation of Perth to the 
Roman Agricola, who saw in its hills another Rome, and 
in its river another Tiber. 

' ' Behold the Tiber! ' the vain Roman cried, 
Viewing the ample Tay from Baiglie's side; 
But where's the Scot that would the vaunt repay, 
And hail the puny Tiber for the Tay ? " 

But Agricola, poor fellow, was probably homesick, and 
felt much like the expatriated Scot who tries to imagine 
himself on his native heath when eating his annual 
haggis at St. Andrew's dinner in New York. 

From the days of Kenneth McAlpine down to the 
times of James I., Perth was the capital of Scotland, and 
witnessed the coronation of all her kings. Every Scot 
knows the story of James I. — how he hid from the as- 
sassins in the Dominican Convent, how fair Catherine 
Douglas thrust her arm through the socket of the bolt 
and held the door against them until her bones were 
brutally crushed, and how the fugitive was finally dragged 
from his place of concealment by 

" Robert Grahame 
That slew our king, 
God give him shame ! " 



Fair Perth. 291 

The old Abbey of Scone, the place of coronation, is 
about two and a half miles from the town, but little re- 
mains of it now besides its name and its associations. 
The ancient mound is there, but the sacred stone on 
which the monarchs stood when crowned was carried 
away by Edward I., and is now in Westminster Abbey, 
an object of interest to all true Scotsmen. In those 
royal days — rude and rough days they were too, viewed 
through modern spectacles — Perth was the centre to- 
ward which most of the clansmen looked, and almost 
every available hill in its vicinity was crowned by a cas- 
tle, the stronghold of some powerful chieftain. Of 
course these autocrats were often at feud with each 
other, and frequently even with the magistrates of the 
town. In the latter case, if not strong enough to beard 
the lion in his den, they would waylay provision 
trains or vessels carrying necessaries to the city, and 
then the citizens would rise in their wrath and sally 
forth with sword and buckler and burn a castle or two. 
But quarrels with the towns-people did not pay in the 
long run, and their brands were oftener turned against 
each other. 

It is a sad commentary on the morals of the day 
that these neighborly feuds were rather fostered 
than checked by the authorities, who thought to win 
safety for themselves out of this brotherly throat- 
cutting. Sometimes the king set a score or two of 
them by the ears in the outskirts of the town for the 



292 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

court's amusement, just as bears and bandogs were 
pitted against each other in those godless days. Every- 
body has read in the " Fair Maid of Perth " the graphic 
account of one of these savage battles between thirty 
picked men of the Clan Ouhele and as many of the 
Clan Chattan, on the North Inch of the city — that beau- 
tiful meadow in which Agricola saw a striking resem- 
blance to the Campus Martius. The story is historically 
true, the battle having actually taken place in the reign 
of Robert III., who had in vain tried to reduce the 
rivals to order. As a last resort it was suggested that 
each should select his champions and fight it out in the 
presence of the king, it being shrewdly hoped that the 
peace of the community would be secured through the 
slaughter of the best men of both sides. The place 
chosen was prepared by surrounding it with a trench 
and by erecting galleries for spectators, for the brutal 
combat was witnessed by the king and his court and by 
many English and French knights, attracted thither by 
the novelty of the spectacle. The contestants, armed 
with their native weapons — bows and arrows, swords 
and targets, short knives and battle axes — entered the 
lists, and at the royal signal butchered each other until 
victory declared in favor of Clan Chattan, the only sur- 
vivor of its opponents having swam the river and es- 
caped to the woods. The few left of the conquering 
party were so chopped and carved and lopped of limbs 
that they could be no longer regarded as either use- 



Villas on the Tay. 293 

ful or ornamental members of society — and thus good 
king Robert's sagacity in pitting these turbulent fellows 
against each other was apparently justified. 

Before starting to-day we had time to stroll along 
the Tay for an hour or two. We were especially at- 
tracted by a volunteer regiment under drill upon the 
green, and were gratified to see that the men looked 
remarkably well under close inspection, as indeed did all 
the militia and volunteers we saw. The nation cannot 
be wrong in accounting these forces most valuable aux- 
iliaries in case of need. I have no doubt but in the 
course of one short campaign they would equal regular 
troops ; at least such was the experience in the Ameri- 
can war. The men we saw were certainly superior to 
regulars as men. It is in a war of defence, when one's 
own country is to be fought for, that bayonets which 
can think are wanted. With such a question at issue, 
these Scotchmen would rout any regular troops in the 
world who opposed them for pay. As for miserable 
skirmishes against poor half-armed savages, I hope these 
men would think enough to despise the bad use they 
were put to. 

The villas we saw upon the opposite bank of the 
Tay looked very pretty — nice home-like places, with 
their gardens and boat-houses. We voted fair Perth 
very fair indeed. After luncheon, which was taken in 
the hotel at Dunkeld, we left our horses to rest and 
made an excursion of a few miles to the falls, to the 



294 Four -in- Hand in Britain. 

place in the Vale of Athol where Millais made the sketch 
for his celebrated picture called " O'er the hills and far 
awa'." It is a grand view, and lighted as it then was by- 
glimpses of sunshine through dark masses of cloud, giv- 
ing many of the rainbow tints upon the heather, it is 
sure to remain long with us. For thirty miles stretch 
the vast possessions of the Duke of Athol ; over moun- 
tain, strath, and glen he is monarch of all the eye can 
see — a noble heritage. A recent storm is said to have 
uprooted seventy thousand of his trees in a single 
night. 

The scenery in the neighborhood of Dunkeld is very 
beautiful. The description of the poet Gray, who 
visited it in 1766, will do as well to-day. "The road 
came to the brow of a deep descent ; and between two 
woods of oak we saw, far below us, the Tay come 
sweeping along at the bottom of a precipice at least a 
hundred and fifty feet deep, clear as glass, full to the 
brim, and very rapid in its course. It seemed to issue 
out of woods thick and tall that rose on either hand, 
and were overhung by broken rocky crags of vast 
height. Above them, to the west, the tops of higher 
mountains appeared, on which the evening clouds re- 
posed. Down by the side of the river, under the thick- 
est shades, is seated the town of Dunkeld. In the midst 
of it stands a ruined cathedral ; the tower and shell of 
the building still entire. A little beyond it a large 
house of the Duke of Athole, with its offices and 



Dunkeld Cathedral. 295 

gardens, extends a mile beyond the town : and, as his 
grounds are intersected by the streets and roads, he has 
flung arches of communication across them, that add 
much to the scenery of the place." 

The cathedral, still a noble ruin, stands a little apart 
from the town, in a grove of fine old trees. It owes its 
destruction to the Puritans, who sacked it in the six- 
teenth century, though the order " to purge the kyrk 
of all kinds of monuments of idolatrye " was directed 
only against images and altars. But the zeal of men in 
those days of bigotry was hard to control, and the mob 
did not desist from its work while a door remained on 
its hinges or a window was unbroken. Since then 
tower, nave, and aisles have remained open to sun and 
storm ; the choir alone has been refitted and is now 
used as the parish church. In the choir is still to be 
seen the tomb and recumbent statue of the famous 
Earl of Buchan, better known as the Wolf of Badenoch. 

The coachman who drove us to-day interested us by 
his knowledge of men and things — such a character as 
could hardly grow except on the heather. He " did 
not think muckle o' one man owning thirty miles 
o' land who had done nothing for it." His reply to a 
question was given with such a pawkie expression that it 
remains fixed in the memory. "Why do not the people 
just meet and resolve that they will no longer have 
kings, princes, dukes or lords, and declare that all men 
are born equal, as we have done in America?" 



296 Four -in- Hand in Britain. 

" Aye, maan, it would hae to be a strong meeting 
that!" 

That strong was so very strong; but there will be one 
strong enough some day, for all that. We cannot stand 
nonsense forever, patient as we are and slow. 

Dunkeld is the gateway of the Highlands, and we 
enter it, singing as we pass upward : 

" There are hills beyond Pentland 
And streams beyond Forth ; 
If there are lords in the south 
There are chiefs in the north." 

We are among the real hills at last. Yonder towers 
Birnam, and here Dunsinane Hill. Mighty master, 
even here is your shade, and we dwell again in your 
shadow. The very air breathes of Macbeth, and the 
murdered Banquo still haunts the glen. How perfectly 
Shakespeare flings into two words the slow gathering 
darkness of night in this northern latitude, among the 
deep green pines : 

" Ere the bat hath flown 
His cloister'd flight ; ere, to black Hecate's summons, 
The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hum, 
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done 

A deed of dreadful note 

. . . . Light thicketis ; and the crow 
Makes wing to the rooky wood : 
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse ; 
Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse." 



Birnam Wood. 



297 



That man shut his eyes and imagined more than 
other men could see with their eyes wide open even 
when among the scenes depicted. The light does 
" thicken," and the darkness creeps upon us and wraps 
us in its mantle unawares. 

Birnam, a wooded hill on the bank of the Tay, is 
about twelve miles from Dunsinane or Dunsinnane Hill, 
the traditional stronghold of Macbeth the Giant, as the 
usurper was known to the country people. According 
to the common story, when Macbeth heard from his 
spies of the coming of Malcolm Canmore's troops from 
Birnam with branches in their hands, he recalled the 
prophecy of the witches, and, despairing of holding the 
castle against them, deserted it and fled, pursued by 
Malcolm, up the opposite hill, where finding it impossible 
to escape, he threw himself from a precipice and was 
killed on the rocks below. His place of burial is still 
shown at a spot called Lang Man's Grave, not far from 
the road where Banquo is said to have been murdered. 

Some Shakesperean scholars have thought that the 
great bard must have collected the materials for his 
tragedy upon the site. It is well known that Her 
Majesty's Players exhibited at Perth in 1589, and it is 
not impossible that Shakespeare may have been among 
them ; but it is scarcely probable. The play follows 
very closely the history of Macbeth as narrated by 
Hollinshed, in which the usurper falls in single combat 
with Macduff, and there can be little doubt that Shakes- 



298 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

peare derived his facts from the chronicle rather than 
from personal investigation. 

It is very evident, however, that Dunsinane was an- 
ciently a strong military post. The hill, which rises 
about eight hundred feet above its base, is steep and 
difficult of access on all sides but one, v/here are traces 
of a winding road cut into the rock. Its fiat summit was 
once defended by a strong rampart, which, judging from 
its remains, must have been of considerable height and 
thickness. The area enclosed by it is more than two 
hundred feet lone. 



Titlochrie, July 30-31. 

This is a great resort in the Highlands ; and deserv- 
edly so, for excursions can be made in every direction 
to famous spots, embracing some of the finest scenery 
in Scotland. About three miles north of it rises Ben 
Vracky, and within easy distances are Glen Tilt, Bruar 
Water, the Pass of Killicrankie, Loch Tummel, the 
Falls of Tummel, and other places well worthy of a 
visit ; but as the Gay Charioteers' time was limited they 
could pay their respects to only a few of them. 

We visited the hydropathic establishment in the 
evening, and found something resembling an American 
hotel. Such establishments are numerous in England 
and Scotland. Few of the guests take the cold-water 
treatment, as I had supposed, but visit the hotels more 
for sake of a change, to make acquaintances, and to 



Falls of Tummel. 299 

" have a good time," as we say. I have no doubt that 
a month of Pitlochrie air is highly beneficial for almost 
any one. 

We walked to the falls of Tummel, and spent some 
happy hours there. Cousin Eliza is up in Scotch songs, 
and I start her every now and then. It has a charm of 
its own to sit on the banks of the very stream, with 
Athol near, and listen to the inquiry finely sung : 

" Cam ye by Athol, 
Lad wi' the philibeg, 
Down by the Tummel 
And banks of the Garry ? " 

Through these very glens the mountaineers came 
rushing, 

" And with the ocean's mighty swing 
When heaving to the tempest's wing 
They hurled them on the foe." 

There is a new meaning to the song when Davie 
pours it forth in the glen itself : 

"Sweet the lavrock's note and lang, 
Lilting wildly up the glen, 
But aye to me it sings ae sang, 
Will ye no come back again ? " 

What a chorus we gave him ! There are some days 
in which we live more than twenty-four hours ; and 
these days in Scottish glens count for more than a week 
of ordinary life. We are in the region of gamekeepers 



300 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

and dogs. It is the last day of July, and the whole 
country is preparing for the annual massacre of the 12th 
of August. Is civilization so very far advanced when 
the titled and wealthiest portions of cultured society 
have still for their chief amusements — which are in many 
cases with them the principal business of life — the rac- 
ing of horses one half of the year, and the murdering of 
poor half-domesticated birds or the chasing to death of 
poor foxes and hares the other half ? Can civilized man 
find nothing better to furnish needful recreation after 
useful toil ? 

The prices paid for a deer forest in Scotland are in- 
credible. Twenty-five to fifty thousand dollars per 
annum for the right to shoot over a few thousand acres 
of poorly timbered land, and a force of gamekeepers 
and other attendants to pay for besides. 

For the present the British are what is called a sport- 
ing people, and the Highlands are their favorite hunting- 
grounds. Their ideas of sport are curious. General 
Sheridan told me that, when abroad, he was invited to 
try some of their sport, but when he saw the poor 
animals driven to him, and that all he had to do was to 
bang away, he returned the gun to the attendant. He 
really could not do this thing, and the General is not 
very squeamish either. As for hunting down a poor 
hare — that needs the deadening influence of custom — 
women ought to be ashamed of it now ; men will be 
anon. 



Pass of Killiecrankie. 301 

The first of all our glens is the Pass of Killiecran- 
kie, that famous defile which gave its name to the 
battle that proved so fatal to the Stuarts, for the 
victory won there by the adherents of the so-called 
James VII. , was more than counterbalanced by the loss 
of Claverhouse. The pass is a narrow, ragged break 
through the mountains, giving a passage to the River 
Garry, and forming the only practicable entrance from 
the low country to the Highlands above. It is now 
accessible by a broad, smooth highway as well as by 
the railway, but at the time of the battle the only road 
through it was a rough path between the swirling river 
and the rocks, and so steep and narrow that but two men 
could march abreast. Along this path the royal forces 
under McKay slowly made their way ; and though the 
pass is only about a mile and a half long it was after- 
noon before the little army of three thousand debouched 
into the plain at its extremity, and took position on the 
high ground beyond. Do you see that eminence a mile 
away yonder, on the north, whose sides slope down into 
the plain? It was from that height that the High- 
landers — McLeans, McDonalds, Camerons, Lochiel, 
Dundee and all — came down like a torrent upon King 
William's men below. The red sun was just above the 
western hills. With fearful yells the tide of ragged, 
barefooted mountaineers (Macaulay says that Lochiel 
took off before the battle what was probably the only 
pair of shoes in the clans) swept on, undismayed by the 



302 Fozcr-in-Hand in Britain. 

volleys of musketry that decimated them as they ran. 
Plaids and haversacks were thrown away, and dropping 
their fusils as they fired them, they were upon the 
astonished Southrons before they had time to screw on 
their bayonets. The fight was over in a few minutes. 
More than a thousand men went down under the strokes 
of the dreaded claymores and Lochaber axes, and away 
went King William's men in a panic down the valley 
with the clans at their heels. The victory was a de- 
cisive one, but Claverhouse, who had insisted, against 
the remonstrances of Lochiel and others, upon leading 
in the charge, was fatally wounded by a bullet early in 
the action. Up yonder on the right is Urrard House, 
where he was carried to die. With this brave, unscrupu- 
lous leader, passed away the last hope of the Stuarts of 
winning their " own again." When King William heard 
of the defeat and of Dundee's death, he said, " Well, 
were it not so, Dundee would have been at my gates to 
tell it himself." 

We walked through the pass on our way northward, 
and concluded that we had thus far seen nothing quite 
so wild. The cliffs rise precipitously on each side, 
clothed here and there with patches of oak and birch. 
The dark, amber-brown rushing torrent is superb, swirl- 
ing among the rocks, down which it has poured through 
eons of time, wearing them into strange forms. The 
very streams are Scotch, with a character all their own, 
portraying the stern features of the race, torn and 



Pitlochrie to Dalwhinnie. 303 

twisted by endless ages of struggle with the rocks 
which impeded their passage, triumphantly clearing 
their pathway to the sea at last by unceasing, persistent 
endeavor. The sides of Scotia's glens are a never-failing 
source of delight, the wild flowers and the ferns seem so 
much more delicately fine than they are anywhere else. 
One understands how they affected Burns. 

Some of our ladies, the Queen Dowager always for 
one, will delay the coach any time to range the 
sides of the glen ; and it is with great difficulty that 
we can get them together to mount once more. The 
horn sounds again and again, and still they linger ; and 
when they at last emerge from the copse, it is with 
handfuls or rather armfuls of Nature's smiles — lapfuls 
of wild flowers — each one rejoicing in her trophies, 
happy as the day is long, only it is not half long enough. 
Go the sun down never so late it sinks to its rest too 
soon. 



Dalwhinnie, August i. 
Our drive from Pitlochrie to Dalwhinnie, thirty-two 
miles, was from beginning to end unsurpassed — moun- 
tain and moor, forest and glen. The celebrated falls 
of Bruar lay in our route, and we spent two hours walk- 
ing up the glen to see them. Well were we repaid. This 
is decided to be the finest, most varied fall of all we have 
seen. The amber torrent works and squirms itself 
through caldrons there, and gorges here, and dashes over 



304 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

precipices yonder, revealing new beauties and giving us 
fresh delights at every step. No gentle kiss gives this 
Scotch fiend to every sedge it overtaketh in its pil- 
grimage, for in truth, dashing and splashing against the 
rocks, the surging, boiling water, with its crest of spark- 
ling foam, seems a live spirit escaping from the glen 
and bounding to the sea, pursued by angry demons 
behind. Standing on the bridge across the Bruar, one 
need not be entirely off his balance to sympathize 
to some extent with the wild wish of my young lady 
friend, who thought if she had to be anything dead 
she would be a plunging, mad stream like this, danc- 
ing among the rocks, snatching to its breast, as it 
passed, the bluebell and the forget-me-not, the broom 
and the fox-glove, leaping over precipices and tossing 
its gay head in sparkling rainbow sprays forever and 
ever. 

It was while gazing at this fall that Burns wrote the 
petition of Bruar Water. The shade asked for has been 
restored — " Clanalpine's pines, in battle brave," now fill 
the glen, and the falls of the Bruar sing their grateful 
thanks to the bard who loved them. 

I have often reminded you, good readers, that the 
coaching party, with a few exceptions, hailed with de- 
light every opportunity for a walk. Contrary to ex- 
pectation, these came much less frequently in Scotland 
than in England. Far away up among the towering 
hills, where the roads necessarily follow the streams 



Bruar Water. 305 

which have pushed themselves through the narrow de- 
files, we get miles and miles in the glens along the ever- 
changing streams ; but it is too level for pedestrianism 
unless we reduce the pace of the coach and walk the 
horses. It is after a two hours' climb up the glen to see 
such a waterfall as the Bruar that we return to the coach, 
feeling, as we mount to our seats, that we have done our 
duty. We were many miles from our lunching site, and 
long ere it was reached we were overtaken by the moun- 
tain hunger. When we arrived at the house on the 
moors where entertainment had been promised us, it was 
to find that it had been rented for the season for a shoot- 
ing-box by a party of English gentlemen, who were to 
arrive in a few days for their annual sport — the slaughter 
of the carefully preserved birds. The people, however, 
were very kind, and gave us the use of the house. Few 
midday halts gave rise to more gayety than this, but 
there is one item to be here recorded which is peculiar 
to this luncheon. For the first and only time the stew- 
ardess had to confess that her supplies were exhausted. 
Due allowance, she thought, had been made for the ef- 
fects of Highland air, but the climb to Bruar, " or the 
brunt of the weather," had produced an unusual demand. 
The very last morsel was eaten, and there seemed a fla- 
vor of hesitancy in the assurance some of us gave her 
that we wished for nothing more. There was not even 
one bite left for the beautiful collies we saw there. 

Has the amount and depth of affection which a woman 



306 Four ~in~ Hand in Britain. 

can waste on a collie dog ever been justly fathomed ? was 
a question raised to-day ; but our ladies declined to enter- 
tain it at all unless "waste" was changed to "bestow." 
The amendment was accepted. Many stories were told 
of these wonderful pets, and what their mistresses had 
done for them. My story was a true one. Miss Nettie 
having to go abroad had to leave her collie in some one's 
care. Many eligible parties had been thoughtfully can- 
vassed, when I suggested that, as I had given her the 
dog, it might be perfectly safe to leave him with me, or 
rather with John and the horses. A grave shake of the 
head, and then, " I have thought of that, but have given 
it up. It would never do. Trust requires a womans 
care." Not a smile, all as grave as if her pet had been a 
delicate child. "You are quite right," I replied; "no 
doubt he would have a dog's life of it at the stable." 
She said yes, mournfully, and never suspected a joke. 
In a stable in New York I once saw a doctor's card 
nailed up. Inquiry revealed that this gave the coach- 
man the address of the physician who was to be called 
in case the lady's dog should be taken ill during her 
absence. If the ladies must go wild over some kind of 
a dog, let it be a collie. I like them myself a little. 

It was gloaming ere we reached Loch Ericht, twelve 
hundred and fifty feet above the sea. What a wild, sol- 
itary country it is around us! The lake lies as it were 
in the lap of the mountains. It is easy to believe that 
this was a famous Highland stronghold in the olden 



In the Highlands. 307 

time. Even Cromwell's Ironsides met with a rude 
check in its savage glens from the men of Athol. Do 
you see rugged. Ben Alder yonder, the highest of the 
group that looks down into the still waters of the lake? 
In its recesses is the cave where Prince Charlie was 
hidden by Cluny Macpherson. 

The gathering of the night shadows warn us that we 
must seek shelter, and in a few minutes we are housed 
in the queer little inn at Dalwhinnie. A bright fire was 
made, and we were as gay as larks at dinner. I am sure 
nothing could surprise Americans more than the dinners 
and meals generally which were given us even in such 
out-of-the-way stations as this. Everything is good, 
well-cooked, and nicely served. It is astonishing what 
a good dinner and a glass of genuine old claret does for 
a party after such a long day's drive and a climb. 

Reassembling after dinner in our neat little parlor, 
the Stars and Stripes displayed as usual over the mantel, 
we were all as fresh and bright as if we had newly risen, 
and were in for a frolic. The incidents of the day gave 
us plenty to talk about — the falls, the glen, that moun- 
tain blue, the lake, and oh ! that first dazzling glint of 
purple heather upon the high rock in the glen which 
drew forth such exclamations ! A little patch it was 
which, having caught more of the sunshine there than 
that upon the moors, had burst before it into the purple, 
and given to the most of us for the first time ample 
proof of the rich, glorious beauty of that famous plant. 



308 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

What says Annie's song ? 

" I can calmly gaze o'er the flowery lea, 
I can tentless muse o'er the summer sea ; 
But a nameless rapture my bosom fills 
As I gaze on the face of the heather hill." 

Aye, Annie, the " nameless rapture " swells in the 
bosom of every Scotchman worthy of the name, when 
he treads the heather. 

Andrew M.'s prize song, " The Emigrant's Lament, 
has the power of a flower to symbolize the things that 
tug hardest at the heart-strings very strongly drawn # 
By the way, let it here be recorded, this is a Dunfermline 
song, written by Mr. Gilfillan — three cheers for Dun- 
fermline ! (that always brings the thunder, aye, and 
something of the lightning too). The Scotchman who 
left the land where his forefathers sleep sings : 

*' The palm-tree waveth high, and fair the myrtle springs, 
And to the Indian maid the bulbul sweetly sings ; 
But I dinna see the broom wi' its tassels on the lea, 
Nor hear the linties sang o' my ain countrie." 

There it is, neither palm-tree nor myrtle, poinsetta 
nor Victoria Regia, nor all that luscious nature has to 
boast in the dazzling lands of the south, all put together, 
will ever make good to that woe-begone, desolate, 
charred heart the lack of that wee yellow bush o' broom 
— never ! Nor will all " the drowsy syrups of the East," 
quiet the ache of that sad breast which carries within it 



Scotland's Flowers, 309 

the doom of exile from the scenes and friends of youth. 
They cannot agree, in these days, where a man's soul is, 
much less where it is going ; let search be made for it 
close, very close, to the roots of that ache. It is not 
far away from the centre which colors the stream of 
man's life. 

Many times to-day, in the exhilaration of the 
moment, one or another enthusiastic member called 
out, "What do ye think o' Scotland noo?" and even 
Emma had to confess in a half-whisper that England 
was nothing to this. Perry and Joe had never been 
beyond the border before, and gave in their adhesion 
to the verdict — there is no place like Scotland. " Right, 
Perry ! " 

We have never seen that paragon of grace, the 
Scottish bluebell, in its glory till now. It is not to be 
judged in gardens, for it is not in its element there ; but 
steal upon it in the glen and see how it goes to your 
heart. Truly I think the Scotch are the best lovers of 
flowers, make the most of them, and draw more from 
them than any other people do. This is a good sign, 
and may be adduced as another proof that the race has 
a tender, weak spot in the heart to relieve the hard 
level head with which the world credits them. 

Whew! Thermometer 53 during the night, the 
coldest weather experienced during our journey. But 
how invigorating ! Ten years knocked off from the age 
of every one of us since we got among the hills, except- 



31 o Four-in-Hand in Britai7i. 

ing from that of several of the ladies, who could hardly- 
spare so much and still be as charming. 

We were stirring early this morning, in for a walk 
across the moors, with the glorious hills surrounding us. 
A grand walk it was too, and the echoes of the horn 
from the coach overtaking us came all too soon upon 
us. Looking back down the valley of Loch Ericht, 
we had the ideal Highland view — mountains every- 
where fading into blue in the distance, green to their 
tops except when capped with snow, and bare, not a 
tree nor a shrub to break their baldness, and the lake 
lying peacefully among them at the foot of the vale. 
These towering masses 

" Seem to stand to sentinel Enchanted Land." 

I am at a loss for any scenery elsewhere with which 
to compare that of the Highlands. The bluish tinge 
above, the rich purple tint below, the thick and thin 
marled, cloudy sky with its small rifts of clear blue, 
through which alone the sun glints to relieve the dark 
shadows by narrow dazzling lights — these give this 
scenery a weird and solemn grandeur unknown else- 
where ; at least I have seen nothing like it. During my 
strolls at night amid such scenes, I have always felt 
nearer to the awful mysteries than ever before. The 
glowering bare masses of mountain, the deep still lake 
sleeping among them, the sough of the wind through 



Ruthvcn Castle. 311 

the glen, not one trace of man to be seen, no wonder it 
makes one eerie, and you feel as if 

" Nature had made a pause, 
An awful pause, prophetic of its end." 

Memory must have much to do with this eerie feel- 
ing upon such occasions, I take it, for every scrap of 
Scottish poetry and song bearing upon the Highlands 
comes rushing back to me. There are whispering 
sounds in the glen : 

" Shades of the dead, have I not heard your voices 
Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale ? 
Surely the soul of the hero rejoices 

And rides on the wind o'er his own Highland vale." 

I hear the lament of Ossian in the sough of the 
passing wind. 

We stopped at the inn at Kingussie, one of the cen- 
tres of sporting interest, but drove on beyond to spread 
our luncheon upon the banks of the Spey, close to the 
remains of Ruthven Castle, a fine ruin in this beautiful 
valley. We walked to it after luncheon. It was here 
that the Highland clans assembled after the defeat at 
Flodden Field and resolved to disband, and the country 
was rid of the Stuarts forever. How far the world has 
travelled since those days ! The best king or family of 
kings in the world is not worth one drop of an honest 
man's blood. If the House of Commons should decide 
to-day that the Prince of Wales is not a fit and proper 



312 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

figure-head and should vote that my Lord Tom Noddy 
is, there is not a sane man in the realm who would move 
a finger for the rightful heir; yet our forefathers thought 
it a religious duty to plunge their country into civil war 
to restore the Stuarts, 

" A coward race to honor lost ; 
"Who knew them best despised them most." 

But I suppose they were about a fair average of royal 
races. " Life can be lived well even in a palace," sings 
Matthew Arnold, and the more credit to such as do 
live it well there, like Queen Victoria, but it is difficult 
work and needs a saint to begin with. It does one good 
to mark such progress. I will not believe that man goes 
round in a circle as the earth does ; upon the king ab- 
surdity he has travelled a straight line. When we made 
kings by act of Parliament (as the Guelphs were made), 
another lesson was learned, that Parliament can unmake 
them too. That is one bloody circle we need never 
travel again. Not one drop of blood for all the royal 
families in Christendom. Carried, nem. con. 

There was a discussion to-day upon the best mode of 
enjoying life. Sydney Smith's famous secret was men- 
tioned. When asked why he was always so bright and 
cheerful, he replied : The secret is " I take short views 
of things." Somehow this is the Scriptural idea, " Suf- 
ficient unto the day is the evil thereof." A good story 
was told of an old man who had endured many of the 



Honeysuckle mid Roses. 



O^O 



ills of life in his long journey. His friends upon one 
occasion, more trying than usual, condoled with him, say- 
ing that he really had more troubles than other men. 
"Yes, my friends, that is too true. I have been sur- 
rounded by troubles all my life long, but there is a 
curious thing about them — nine-tenths of them never 
happened." 

" That is a story with a moral for you. How many of 
our troubles ever happened ! We dream of ten for 
every one that comes. One of the Charioteers was 
ready with a verse to enforce the moral : 
" When fortune with a smiling face 
Strews roses on our way, 
When shall we stop to pick them up ? 

To-day, my love, to-day. 
But should she frown with face of care, 

And speak of coming sorrow, 
When shall we grieve, if grieve we must ? 
To-morrow, love, to-morrow." 

This was received with evident approval, and just as 
it ended the huge beds of honeysuckle lying on the 
hedge-rows we were passing, and the wild roses rising 
above them on long graceful sprays, nodding their 
heads as if desirous of doing us obeisance, caused one 
of the ladies to cry out, " Oh, here are the roses on our 
way just now ! Do let us stop and pluck them to-day, 
as the poet advises." " Stop, Perry ! " Right, sir ! " 
" Steps, Joey ! " " Right, sir ! " — and down we are in a 
moment gathering the spoils. " Do let the coach drive 



314 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

on and wait for us at the top of the next hill." " But 
wait, ladies, let us all put our flowers inside and arrange 
them when we stop for luncheon." 

It is a superb morning, the hedge-rows prettier than 
ever ; the larks are rising ; now and then a hare darts 
across the road in advance. The whirr of the partridge 
or pheasant stirs the sportsman's blood, and upon every 
tree some feathered songster pours forth his song. 
Faust need not have sold himself to the devil for youth, 
after all. We find it here in this glorious gypsy life. 

Upon remounting the coach after an hour's frolic in 
the lane, some one wanted the reciter to repeat the 
verse which had caused the stop, but he said there 
was a second verse which also had its moral, and, if 
permitted, he would give this instead. Agreed to, 
provided he would give the ladies a copy of both verses 
for their books — one copy for the lot, and this each 
would copy for herself. His terms, however, were that 

he should repeat it alone to Miss and teach it to 

her (sly dog), and she could make the copies. He then 
gave us the second verse : 

" If those who've wronged us own their faults 
And kindly pity pray, 
When shall we listen and forgive ? 

To-day, my love, to-day. 
But if stern justice urge rebuke 

And warmth from memory borrow, 
When shall we chide, if chide we must ? 
To-morrow, love, to-morrow." 



Good Philosophy. 315 

This was voted a fit companion for the first verse, 
so the Charioteers to-day had two moral lessons. 

The student said it was also good philosophy, and 
taught by no less an authority than Herbert Spencer 
himself, who had exposed the folly of postponing pres- 
ent enjoyments in the hope that they will be better 
if enjoyed at a later date. Here are the words of the 
sage : 

" Hence has resulted the belief that, irrespective of 
their kinds, the pleasures of the present must be sacri- 
ficed to the pleasures of the future. So ignorant is this 
belief, that it is wrong to seek immediate enjoyments 
and right to seek remote ones only, that you may hear 
from a busy man who has been on a pleasure excur- 
sion a kind of apology for his conduct. He depre- 
cates the unfavorable judgments of his friends by ex- 
plaining that the state of his health had compelled 
him to take a holiday, nevertheless if you sound him 
with respect to his future, you will find out his ambi- 
tion is by and by to retire and devote himself wholly 
to the relaxation which he is now somewhat ashamed 
of taking. The current conception further errs by im- 
plying that a gratification which forms a proper aim if 
it is remote, forms an improper aim if it is proximate." 

And this from the " Data of Ethics." So that 
the poet and the philosopher are as one. 

" Does Herbert Spencer write so clearly and simply 
as that upon such subjects?" asked one of the young 



316 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

ladies. " I though he was so fearfully deep. His 
books sound so very learned and obtuse, I have only 
read his work on ' Education' ; that was splendid, and I 
understood it all, every word. If that book you just 
quoted from had an easy name I'd go to work at it — but 
'Data of Ethics' frightens me. I don't know exactly 
what Data means, and I'm mixed on Ethics." 

The voice of the Coach was clear upon " Education," 
however, and I recall just now the remark of my little 
nephew to his mother, when Mr. Spencer did us the 
honor of visiting us: " Mamma, I want to see the man 
who wrote in a book that there is no use studying 
grammar." Amid the thousands of very grateful ones 
who feel what they owe to Herbert Spencer, may be 
safely classed that young scion of our family. His grat- 
itude is profound, and with good reason. 

Boat o' Garten was to be our refuge, a small, lovely 
inn on the moors, the landlady of which had telegraphed 
us in a rather equivocal way in response to our request 
for shelter. There was no other house for many miles, 
so we pushed on, trusting to our star. We were all 
right. The house was to be filled on the morrow with 
sportsmen, and we could be entertained " for this night 
only." Such is luck. Even as it was, the family rooms 
had to be given up to us ; but then, dear souls, there is 
nothing they would not do for the Americans. As for 
the coach, there was no building on the moors high 
enough to take in the huge vehicle ; but as showing the 



Last Night on the Moors. 317 

extreme care taken of property in this country, I note 
that heavy tarpaulins were obtained, and it was nicely 
covered for the night. What a monster it seemed stand- 
ing out in the darkness ! 

After dinner we received packages of the Dunferm- 
line papers containing the full account of the demonstra- 
tion there and of the speeches. It goes without saying 
that there was great anxiety to read the account of that 
extraordinary ovation. Those who had made speeches 
and said they were not very sure what, were seen to re- 
tire to quiet corners and bury themselves in their copies. 
Ah, gentlemen, it is of no use! Read your orations 
twenty times over, you are just as far as ever from being 
able to gauge your wonderful performances ; besides the 
speech made is nothing compared to any of half a dozen 
you have since made to yourself on the same subject. 
Ah ! the Dunfermline people should have heard these. 
So sorry! One can tell all about the speeches of his 
colleagues, however, and we made each other happy by 
very liberal laudations, while we each felt once more the 
generous rounds of applause with which we had been 
greeted. 

After mailing copies of the newspapers to numerous 
friends, there came a serious cloud over all. This was 
to be our last night on the moors ; the end of our way- 
ward life had come. One more merry start at the horn's 
call, and to-morrow's setting sun would see the end of 
our happy dream. Arcadia would be no more; the 



3 18 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Charioteers' occupation would be gone. It was resolved 
that something should be done to celebrate the night to 
distinguish it from others. We would conform to the 
manners and customs of the country and drink to our 
noble selves in whiskey toddy with Highland honors. 
This proved a success. Songs were sung ; Aaleek was 
in his most admirable fooling; "your health and song" 
went round, and we parted in tolerably good spirits. 

There was an unusual tenderness in the grasp of the 
hand, and mayhap something of a tremor in the kind 
"Good-night, happy dreams," with which it was the 
custom of the members to separate for the night, and 
we went to bed wondering what we had done to deserve 
so much happiness. 



Boat o* Garten, August 2. 
Inverness at last ! But most of us were up and 
away in advance of the coach, for who would miss the 
caller air and the joy of the moors these blessed morn- 
ings when it seems joy enough simply to breathe? 
But did not we catch it this morning ! No use trying 
to march against this blow ; the wind fairly beat us, and 
we were all glad to take refuge in the school-house till 
the coach came ; and glad were we that we had done so. 
Was it not a sight to see the throng of sturdy boys and 
girls gathered together from who knows where! For 
miles and miles there are seen but a few low huts upon 
the moors ; but as some one has said, " Education is a 



Advantages of Poverty. 319 

passion " in Scotland, and much of the admitted success 
of the race has its root in this truth. The poorest crof- 
ter in Scotland will see that his child gets to school. 
Note this in the fine old song: 

" When Aaleck, Jock, and Jeanettie 
Are tip and got their lair, 
They'll serve to gar the boatie row 
And lichten a' our care." 

Heavy is the load of care that the Scotch father and 
mother take upon themselves and struggle with all the 
years of their prime that the bairns " may get their lair." 
To the credit of the bairns let it be said that the hope 
expressed in the verse just quoted is not often disap- 
pointed. They do grow up to be a comfort to their 
parents in old age when worn out with sacrifices made 
for them. Our great men come from the cradles of 
poverty. I think he was a very wise man who found 
out that the advantage of poverty was a great prize 
which a rich man could never give his son. But we 
should not condemn the Marquises of Huntley, the Dukes 
of Hamilton, and the rest of them ; they never had a fair 
chance to become useful men. It is the system that is 
at fault, and for that we the people are responsible. The 
privileged classes might turn out quite respectably if 
they had justice done them and were permitted to start 
in life as other men are. For my part, I wonder that they 
generally turn out as well as they do. The kite mounts 
only against the wind. 



32 o Four-in-Hand in Britai7i. 

Coaching brings us close to Nature's sweetest charms, 
and the good universal mother is always so gracious to 
her children ; the cawing of the rook or the crowing of 
the cock awakens us ; the green things and the pretty 
flowers about the inn, which greet the eyes as we pull 
up the blinds, and the sniff of fresh morning air which 
a short stroll before breakfast gives us, make a splendid 
start for the day, so different from the usual beginning 
of city life. The whole day is spent in the open air, 
walking or driving, or lolling upon sunny braes at 
luncheon, amid brooks and wild flowers, and the hum 
of bees, the songs of birds, and the grateful scent of 
new-mown hay. And when night comes we fall asleep, 
with the sense of dropping softly upon banks of flowers 
without a thorn. Tell me if such a life for a few weeks 
now and then is not the best cure for most of the serious 
ills of this high-pressure age ! Every man who can 
afford it should give it a trial. If overworked, he 
should go to find the cure — if well, he should certainly 
go in order to keep so. 

We all need to learn what the poet says : 

" Better that man and nature were familiar friends ; 
That part of man is worst which touches this base life ; 
For though the ocean in its inmost depths be pure, 
Yet the salt fringe which daily licks the shore 
Is foul with sand.'' 

I think the last line worthy of Shakespeare, even if 
it be the product of a poor young Glasgow poet. In 



Scotland's School Houses. 321 

this coaching life we touch the base every-day life of 
care and struggle at very few points indeed and hence 
our joy. We are deep in love with Nature, and true 
worshippers at her shrine have few sorrows. 

While revelling in the exquisite beauty of England — 
such quiet and peaceful beauty as we had never seen 
before — the thought often came to me that I should be 
compelled to assume the apologetic strain for my 
beloved Scotland. It could not possibly have such 
attractions to show as the more genial South, but so 
far from this being so, as I have already said, there was 
scarcely a morning or afternoon during which the 
triumphant inquiry was not made, " What do you think 
of Scotland noo ? " Of all that earned for Scotland the 
first place in our hearts I mention the pretty stone 
school-houses, with teacher's residence and garden 
attached, which were seen in almost every village ; and 
if I had no other foundation than this upon which to 
predict the continued intellectual ascendency of Scot- 
land and an uninterrupted growth of its people in every 
department of human achievement, I should unhesitat- 
ingly rest it upon these school-houses. A people which 
passes through the parish school in its youth cannot 
lose its grasp, or fall far behind in the race. Indeed, 
compared with the thorough education of the masses, 
the lives and quarrels of politicians seem petty in the 
extreme. It is with education as with righteousness, 
seek it first and all political blessings must be added 



322 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

unto you. It is the only sure foundation upon which 
to rear the superstructure of a great State, and how 
happy I am to boast that Scotland is not going to yield 
the palm in this most important of all work ! No, not 
even to the Republic. From what I saw of the new 
schools, I'll back their scholars against any lot of 
American children to-day ; but I admit one great lack : 
the former would strike you as somewhat too deferential, 
disposed to bow too much to their superiors in station, 
while American boys are said to be born repeating the 
Declaration of Independence. No more valuable lesson 
can be taught a lad than this : that he is born the equal 
of the prince, and what privileges the prince has are 
unjustly denied him. It would do Scotch boys good to 
hear my young American nephews upon the doctrine 
that one man " is as good as another and a good deal 
better." Of the sights which cause me to lose temper, 
one is to see a splendid young Briton, a real manly 
fellow, standing mum like a duffer when he is asked 
why the son of a Guelph or of any other family 
should have a privilege denied to him. Are you less a 
man ? Have not you had as honest parents and a better 
grandfather? Why do you stand this injustice ? And 
then he has nothing to say. Well, I have sometimes 
thought I have noticed the cheek a little redder. That 
is always a consolation. Thank God ! we have nothing 
like this in America. Our young men carry in their 
knapsacks a President's seal, and no one is born to any 



Popular Amusements. 323 

rank or position above them. Under the starry flag 
there are equal rights for all. It will be so in Scotland 
perhaps ere I die (D. V.). If I had the schooling of 
young Scotland I would make every class repeat in the 
morning before lessons : 

" If thou hast said I am not peer 
To any lord in Scotland here, 
Highland or lowland, far or near, 
Lord Angus, thou hast lied." 

I would teach them the new meaning of that stirring 
verse, and tell them that the lad who did not believe 
himself the peer of any man born and entitled to every 
privilege " might do for an Austrian, a Russian, a 
Prussian, or an Italian," but never would be much of 
a Scotchman — never. 

I do not think I have spoken of the announcements 
of amusements seen everywhere during the trip through- 
out the rural districts : band competitions, cricket 
matches, flower shows, wrestling matches, concerts, 
theatricals, holiday excursions, races, games, rowing 
matches, football contests, and sports of all kinds. We 
are surprised at their number, which gives incontesta- 
ble evidence of the fact that the British people work 
far less and play far more than their American cousins 
do. No toilers, rich or poor, like the Americans ! The 
band competitions are unknown here, but no doubt we 
shall soon follow so good an example and try them. 



324 Fonr-in-Hand in Britain. 

The bands of a district meet and compete for prizes, 
which stirs up wholesome rivalry and leads to excel- 
lence. We saw eight gathered for competition in one 
little town which we passed, and the interest excited by 
the meet was so great as to put the town en fete. I do 
not know any feature of British life which would strike 
an American more forcibly than these contests. We 
should try one here, and, by and by, why not an inter- 
national contest — the Dunfermline band playing the 
" Star-Spangled Banner," and the Pittsburgh perform- 
ers " Rule Britannia." Yes, that's right ; I insist upon 
" Rule Britannia " — that is the nation's song ; I am 
growing tired of " God Save the Queen " — even such a 
model as the present one — for the strain is only per- 
sonal, after all. I wish Her Majesty well, but I love 
my country more. " Rule Britannia " is the national 
song. 

I hope Americans will find some day more time for 
play, like their wiser brethren upon the other side. 

We came to the crossing of the Spey to-day to find 
that the long high bridge was undergoing extensive re- 
pairs and closed to travel. In America it would never 
have occurred to us that a bridge could be closed while 
being rebuilt, but in the science of bridge-building Brit- 
ish engineers are a generation behind us, because they 
have not had to build so many. However, there was 
nothing for it but to follow down the stream until an- 
other bridge was found. When we did find it, we saw a 



The Last Luncheon. 325 

notice prohibiting loads beyond two tons from crossing. 
It was a light iron structure (perhaps a Tay blunder 
upon a small scale). The wind was whistling like a 
fiend about our ears as it came roaring down the glen ; 
all pleasant while we were in the woods skirting the 
river with our backs to it, but when we turned to cross 
it seemed as if we should be blown bodily from the top 
of the coach. Everything was taken off the top, and 
we all dismounted. Perry and Joe drove over, while we 
all walked, some of us on the lee side of the coach for 
shelter, and in a few minutes we were so sheltered in 
the glen again as scarcely to know there was a breath of 
air stirring; but these "Highland homes where tem- 
pests blow " know what gales are. We have had great 
blows now and then at some high points crossing the 
moors, for the hills you rarely cross ; these you have to 
avoid, but to-day was the only time we were compelled 
to dismount. 

We had not far to drive before we reached the 
pretty little burn which falls into the Findhorn, the 
spot selected for the last luncheon. 

This spot seemed made to order ; the burn, the fire, 
the mossy grass, the wild river, the moor and glen, 
all here. Down sat the Charioteers for the last happy 
luncheon together. We were all so dangerously near 
the brink of sad regret that a bold effort was neces- 
sary to steer clear of thoughts which pressed upon 
us. We had to laugh for fear we might cry, the 



326 Four-inHand in Britain. 

smile ever lies so near the tear. It had to be a lively- 
luncheon, that was all there was about it ; and when 
duty calls it doesn't take much to start our boys to 
frolic. A few empty bags which we had used for horse- 
feed in emergencies suggested a sack-race. Such roars 
of laughter when one or the other of the too ambitious 
contestants went to grass ! This was a capital diversion. 
Any one looking down upon us (but in these lonely glens 
no eye is there to see) would never have imagined that 
this sport was started only as a means to prevent the 
travellers becoming mournful enough for a funeral. A 
little management is a great thing; it pulled us through 
the last luncheon with only tears of laughter. 

" In, Joe ! Right, Perry ! Sound the horn ! All 
aboard for Inverness ! " There was something in the 
thought, " We have done it," which kept us from regret, 
although the rebuke came sharply from the ladies, as 
one pointed out another milestone, " Oh, don't, please ! " 
With every white stone passed there was a mile less of 
Arcadia to enjoy. Over moor and dale lies the way, a 
beautiful drive, gradually descending for many miles, 
from about twelve hundred and fifty feet above the 
sea level at Dalwhinnie to a few hundred only near In- 
verness. 

At last the call is made, " Stop, Perry ! Capital of 
the Highlands, all hail ! Three rousing cheers for bonnie 
Inverness ! " There she lies so prettily upon the Moray 
Frith, surrounded by fields of emerald green, an un- 



Inverness. 327 

usually grand situation and a remarkably beautiful town. 
We stopped long upon the hill-top to enjoy the picture 
spread out below. The Charioteers will forget much 
ere their entrance into Inverness fades from the memory. 
A telegram from friend G., conveyed to us the con- 
gratulations of our Wolverhampton connection upon 
the triumphant success of our expedition, to which 
something like this was sent : " Thanks ! We arrived at 
the end of this earthly paradise at six o'clock this even- 
ing. When shall we look upon its like again ? " 



Inverness, August 3. 

It was Saturday, 6 P.M., August 3d, exactly seven 
weeks and a day after leaving Brighton, when we en- 
tered Inverness and sat down in our parlor at the Cale- 
donian Hotel. Up went the flags as usual ; dinner was 
ordered; then came mutual congratulations upon the 
success of the journey just finished. Not one of the 
thirty-two persons who had at various times travelled 
with us ever missed a meal, or had been indisposed from 
fatigue or exposure. Even Ben had been improved by 
the journey. Nor had the coach ever to wait five min- 
utes for any one ; we had breakfasted, lunched, and 
dined together, and not one had ever inconvenienced 
the company by failing to be in time. 

How shall I render the unanimous verdict of the 
company upon the life we had led? 



328 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

" 1 never was so happy in my life. No, Aaleck, not 
even upon my wedding journey." That is the verdict 
of one devoted young wife, given in presence of her 
husband. 

" I haven't been so happy since my father took me 
fishing, and I wasn't as happy then," was Aaleck's state- 
ment. 

" Oh, Andrew, I have been a young girl again ! " 
We all know who said that, Miss Velvety. 

" I can't help it, but I don't want to speak of it just 
now. It's too sad." Prima Donna, this was a slightly 
perilous line to follow, for the heart was evidently near 
the mouth there. 

" To think of it, Naig, I have to go home to-mor- 
row." That was Eliza. 

" Jerusalem the golden ! it would make a wooden 
Indian jump, this life would." No need of putting a 
name to that, Bennie, my lad. 

"Andrew, I've just been in a dream of happiness all 
the time." That was oor Davie. 

" I never expect to be as happy for seven weeks 
again," met with a chorus of supporters. 

The Queen Dowager, however, put us all in a more 
gleeful mood by her verdict : " Well, I expect to have 
another coaching trip yet. You'll see ! He can't help 
doing more of this, and I'll be there. He can't keep me 
at home ! " And her hearty laugh and a clap of her 
hands above her head brought us all merrily to dinner. 



Macbettis Castle. 329 

She is very often a true prophet. We shall see, we 
shall see ! 

After dinner we strolled about the city and admired 
its many beauties, especially the pretty Ness, which 
flows through the town to the sea. Its banks and isl- 
ands constitute one of the finest of pleasure-grounds 
for the people, and many a lover's tale, I trow, has been 
told in the shady walks beside it. I felt quite senti- 
mental myself, sauntering along between the gloaming 
and the mirk with one of the young ladies. The long, 
long gloaming of the north adds immensely to the 
charms of such a journey as this we have just taken. 
These are the sweetly precious hours of the day. 

At Inverness we are again on classic ground ; for 
Macbeth had a castle there, which good King Duncan 
visited, and of which he said : 

" This castle hath a pleasant seat : the air 
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself 
Unto our gentle senses." 

It was razed by Malcolm III. or Canmore, Duncan's 
son, who built a new castle not far from its site. This 
latter fortress existed until about the middle of the 
last century, when it was blown up by the troops of 
Charles Edward Stuart. Portions of its walls may still 
be seen. Culloden field, too, is hard by, and all the 
country round is rich in ruined keeps and towers. 

On reassembling in our parlor an ominous lack of 



330 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

hilarity prevailed. We did manage, however, to get 
the choir up to the point of giving this appropriate 
song with a slight variation : 

" Happy we've been a' thegither, 
Happy we've been in ane and a', 
Blyther folk ne'er coached thegither, 
Sad are we to gang awa'.'' 

(Chorus). 

It wasn't much of a success. We were not in tune, 
nor in time either. Joe and Perry were to come at ten 
to say good-by. Here the serious business of life 
pressed upon us, escape being impossible. We had to 
meet it at last. They came and received the thanks 
and adieux of all. I handed them notes certifying to 
all coming coaching parties that fortunate indeed would 
be their lot were Perry and Joe to take them in charge. 
Joey responded in a speech which so riveted our atten- 
tion during delivery that not one of us could recall a 
sentence when he ceased. This is one of the sincere 
regrets of the travellers, for assuredly a copy of that 
great effort would have given the record inestimable 
value. It was a gem. I have tried to catch it, but 
only one sentence comes to me : "And has for the 'osses, 
sir, they are better than when we started, sir; then they 
'ad flabby flesh, sir; now they're neat an' 'ardy." So are 
we all of us, Joey, just like the 'osses; "neat an' 'ardy," 
fit for walk, run, or climb, and bang-up to everything. 

We had all next day to enjoy Inverness. What a 



Farewell to the Coach. 331 

fine climate it has as compared with the Highlands south 
of it ! Vegetation is luxuriant here and the land fertile. 
One would naturally expect all to be bleak and bare so 
far north, but that Gulf Stream which America sends 
over to save the precious tight little isle from being 
a region of ice makes it delightful in summer and 
not extremely cold even in winter. We are assured 
that the climate of Inverness is more genial than that 
of Edinburgh, which is not saying very much for the 
capital of the North surely, but still it is something. 



Caledonian Hotel, 
Inverness, August 5, evening. 

General Manager, at dinner. 

To waiter : " What time do we start in the morn- 
ing ?" 

Waiter : " The omnibus starts at seven, sir." 

Shakespearean Student — " Ah ! There was the weight 
which pulled us down. The omnibus ! Farewell the 
neighing steeds, the spirit-stirring horn, whose sweet 
throat awakened the echoes o'er mountain and glen. 
Farewell, the Republican banner, and all the pride, 
pomp, and circumstance of glorious coaching, farewell ! 
The Charioteers' occupation's gone." 

First Miltonic Reciter — 

" From morn till noon, 
From noon till dewy eve, 
A summer's day we fell." 



332 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

Our fall from our own four-in-hand to a public omni- 
bus — oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! — 
involved the loss of many a long summer's day to us, 
for long as they had been the sun ever set too soon. 

It was all up after this. Perry and Joe, the coach 
and the horses, were speeding away by rail to their 
homes ; we were no longer the coaching party, but only 
ordinary tourists buying our tickets like other people in- 
stead of travelling as it were in style upon annual passes. 
But fate was merciful to us even in this extremity ; we 
were kept from the very lowest stage of human misery 
by finding ourselves alone and all together in the 
omnibus ; our party just filled it. If it was only a hotel 
omnibus, as one of the young ladies said, it was all our 
own yet, as was the MacLean boat at the flood, and 
the ladies, dear souls, managed to draw some consola- 
tion from that. 

We returned from Inverness by the usual tourist 
route : canal and boat to Oban, where we rested over 
night, thence next day to Glasgow. Under any 
other circumstances I think this part of the journey 
would have been delightful. The scene indelibly 
impressed upon our minds is that we saw at night 
near Ballahulish. I remember a party of us agreed 
that what we then saw could never be forgotten. 
But Black alone could paint it. It is saying much 
for any combination of the elements when not one 
nor two, but more of a party like ours stand and whisper 



The First Separation. 333 

at rare intervals of the sublime and awful grandeur 
which fascinates them into silence ; never am I lifted up 
apparently so close to the Infinite as when amid such 
weird, uncanny scenes as these. We had an hour of 
this that night, fitting close to our life in the Highlands 
of Scotland. 

The first separation came at Greenock. The Queen 
Dowager, and Mr. and Mrs. K. disembarked there for 
Paisley. The others continued by boat to Glasgow and 
enjoyed the sail up the Clyde very much. It was Satur- 
day, a holiday for the workers. The miles of shipyards 
were still, " no sound of hammers clanking rivets up," 
that fine sunny day, but as we passed close to them we 
saw the iron frames of the future monsters of the deep, 
the Servia, Alaska, and others destined to bear the palm 
for a short time, and then to give place to others still 
greater, till the voyage between England and America 
will be only a five-day pleasure excursion, and there will 
be " two nations, but one people." God speed the day ! 
But the old land must come after a time up to Republi- 
canism ! I make a personal matter of that, Lafayette, 
my boy, as Mulberry Sellers says. No monarchy need 
apply. We draw the line at this. All men were created 
free and equal. Brother Jonathan takes very little 
" stock " in a people who do not believe that funda- 
mental principle. 

We landed at the Broomielaw, whither father and 
mother and Tom and I sailed thirty odd years ago, on 



334 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

the 800-ton ship Wiscasset, and began our seven weeks' 
voyage to the land of promise, poor emigrants in quest 
of fortune ; but, mark you, not without thoughts in the 
radical breasts of our parents that it was advisable to 
leave a land which tolerated class distinctions for the 
government of the people, by the people and for the 
people, which welcomed them to its fold and insured for 
their sons, as far as laws can give it, equality with' the 
highest and a fair and free field for the exercise of their 
powers. 

My father saw through not only the sham but the 
injustice of rank, from king to knight, and loved 
America because she knows no difference in her sons. 
He was a Republican, aye, eveiy inch, and his sons 
glory in that and follow where he led. 

I remember well that our friends stood on the quay 
and waved farewell. Had their adieu been translated it 
would have read : 

" Now may the fair goddess Fortune 
Fall deep in love with thee, 
Prosperity be thy page." 

Thanks to the generous Republic which stood with 
open arms to receive us, as she stands to-day to welcome 
the poor of the world to share with her own sons upon 
equal terms the glorious heritage with which she is en- 
dowed — thanks to it, prosperity has indeed been our 
page. 



Embarkation for Home. 335 

At St. Enoch's Station Hotel, Glasgow, another 
separation of the party took place. A delegation of 
five of our members were sent to investigate the Irish 
question and report at Queenstown. Miss E. L. re- 
turned to Dunfermline. Miss F. and Mr. and Mrs. K. 
were visiting the Queen Dowager at Paisley. Harry 
and I ran down to see friend Richards at his basic proc- 
ess at Eston, stopping over night at York and Durham, 
however, to enjoy once more the famous cathedrals and 
hear the exquisite music. 



Liverpool, August 13. 
We sailed to-day in the Algeria, the great Servia 
having been delayed. Many were there to see us off, 
including four or five Charioteers. The English are, as 
Davie said, " a kindly people," a warm-hearted, affec- 
tionate race, and as true as steel. When you once have 
them you have them forever. There was far more than 
the usual amount of tears and kisses among the ladies. 
One would have thought our American and English 
women were not cousins, but sisters. The men were, as 
befitting their colder natures, much less demonstrative. 
There seems never to be a final good-by on shipboard ; 
at every ringing of the bell another tender embrace and 
another solemn promise to write soon are given. But 
at last all our friends are upon the tug, the huge vessel 
moves, one rope after another is cast off, handkerchiefs 
wave, kisses are thrown, write soons exchanged, and the 



336 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

tug is off in one direction and we in another. Some one 
broke the momentary silence and brought the last round 
of cheers with the talismanic call " Skid, Joe ! Right, 
Perry ! " That touched all hearts with remembrance of 
the happy, happy days, the happiest of our lives. So 
parted the two branches of the Gay Charioteers. 

At Queenstown we received the Irish contingent, 
who had enjoyed their week in the Emerald Isle. Very 
nice indeed was the report, but with this quite unneces- 
sary addenda, " But, of course, nothing to coaching." 
That goes without saying in our ranks. 

The Algeria was a great ship in her day ; now she 
is sold to a freight line. But when she does not give a 
good account of herself in a hurricane do not pin your 
faith in any iron ship. You may still, however, believe 
that one of steel like the Servia will stand anything. 
She has at least double the strength of any iron 
steamer afloat. When she does not outride the tempest, 
you may give up in earnest and decide, like Mrs. Part- 
ington at sea, " never to trust yourself so far out of the 
reach of Providence again." 

On Wednesday morning, August 24th, the party 
reached New York again, and were finally disbanded. 
Two or three of the most miserable hours I ever spent 
were those at the St. Nicholas Hotel, where the Queen 
Dowager, Ben, and I lunched alone before starting for 
Cresson. Even Ben had to take an earlier train for 
Pittsburgh, and I exclaimed : " All our family gone ! I 



Final Farewells. 337 

feel so lonely, so deserted ; not one remains." But the 
Queen was equal to the emergency. " Oh, you don't 
count me, then ! You have still one that sticks to you." 
Oh, yes, indeed, sure of that, old lady. 

"The good book tells of one 

Who sticks closer than a brother ; 
But who will dare to say there's one 
Sticks closer than a mother ! " 

(Original poetry for the occasion.) 

These horrid partings again ; but whatever the future 
has in store for those who made the excursion recorded 
here, I think I can safely say that they could not wish 
their dearest friend a happier life than that led from 
June 1st to August 24th by the Gay Charioteers. 

Those who have mounted the coach become, as it 
were, by virtue of that act members of an inner circle ; 
a band of union knits them closely together. To a hun- 
dred dear, kind friends in the Beautiful Land we send 
thanks and greeting. Their kindness to us can never be 
forgotten, for they soon taught us to feel that it was not 
a foreign land which we had visited after all, but the 
dear old home of our fathers. 

Forever and ever may the parent land and the child 
land grow fonder and fonder of each other, and their 
people mingle more and more till they become as one 
and the same. All good educated Americans love Eng- 
land, for they know that she alone among the nations 
of the world 



$$& Four-in-Hand in Britain. 

" On with toil of heart and knees and hand 
Through the long gorge to the far light hath won 
Her path upward and prevailed." 

She it was who pointed out to America what to 
plant, and how, and where. The people of England 
should love America, for she has taught them in return 
that all the equal rights and privileges of man they are 
laboring for at home are bearing goodly fruit in the freer 
atmosphere of the West. May the two peoples, there- 
fore, grow in love for each other, and with this fond wish, 
and many a sad farewell, the Gay Charioteers disband, 
forever afterward in life to rally round each other in case 
of need at the mystic call of " Skid, Joe," " Right, Perry ; " 
and certain of this, that whatever else fades from the 
memory, the recollection of our coaching trip from 
Brighton to Inverness remains a sacred possession for- 
ever. 



THE RECORD. 

BRIGHTON TO INVERNESS, JUNE 17 TO AUGUST 3, 1881. 



June 17 Brighton (The Grand Hotel). 

" Guildford (The White Lion) 42 

18 and 19. .Windsor (The Castle) 32 

20 Reading (The Queen's) 27 

21 Oxford (The Clarendon) 34 

22 Banbury (The White Lion) 23 

23 Stratford-on-Avon (The Red Horse) 18 

24 Coventry (The Queen's) 22 

25 to 30. . . .Wolverhampton (English Homes, best of all) 33 

July 1 Lichfield (The Swan) 20 

2 and 3 Dovedale (The Izaak Walton) 26 

4 Chatsworth (The Edensor) 24 

5 . , Buxton (The Palace) 26 

6 Manchester (The Queen's) 23 

7 Chorley ( Anderton Hall) 14 

8 Preston (The Victoria) 16 

9 and 10. . . Lancaster (The County) 29 

11 Kendal (King's Arms) 22 

12 Grassmere (Prince of Wales) 18 

13 Keswick (The Keswick) 12 

14 Tenrith (The Crown) iS 

15 Carlisle (The County and Station) 16 

16 and 17.. Dumfries (The Commercial) 3 2 

18 Sanquhar (The Queensberry) 23 

19 Old Cumnock (Dumfries Arms) 29 

20 Douglas (Douglas Arms) 2 ° 

21 to 26 .. .Edinburgh (The Royal) 44 

27 and 28. . Dunfermline (The City Arms) l6 

29 Perth (The Royal George) 32 

30 and 31 . . Pitlochrie (Fisher's Hotel) 33 

August 1 Dalwhinnie (The Loch Ericht) 32 

" 2 Boat o' Garten (The Boat o' Garten) 35 

" 3 Inverness (The Caledonian) 29 

Total Miles, 83 1 



<■ T I. 



